Sympathetic Magic
by shedoc
Summary: Harry and Ron discover there is more to their friendship than anyone knew, including themselves...
1. Summer Holidays

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Disclaimer: Surely no one is silly enough to believe that I own these characters, or this world? JK Rowling does and I'm only playing with them. I promise they'll be happy when I put them back.

REPOSTED BROKEN INTO SMALLER CHUNKS WITH THE DIVIDERS IN I hope

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Author's notes: This series is supposed to cover the last two years of school for Harry and Ron. It discusses child abuse, underage consensual sex between two people who love each other, and will eventually cover MPREG as well. If any of these topics offend you please turn back now. In addition, I have tried to follow cannon as best as I can, but you know how it goes…I'll have messed something up somewhere along the way. I know their birthdays are wrong, but lets just allow for artistic licence and no one will get hexed.

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Further warning: this piece in particular starts off quite dark, but things get better as they go along.

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Sympathetic Magic: Part One - the Summer Holidays

Harry lay in the small, hot, stuffy room and stared blankly at the wall. Hedwig's cage sat empty by the window. She was off at the Burrow, sending his daily report - something that ran along the lines of 'still here, still alive, nothing to report', although sometimes he changed the order of the words around for a bit of variety.

Alastor Moody's words to Uncle Vernon had made the long weeks following Sirius' death an unrelenting course in hell. The moment they stepped into the house his Uncle had turned and slapped Harry - hard. This was something that had rarely ever happened to Harry before - verbal slaps and jabs, yes, but the Dursley's had never actually touched him if they could help it; to the point that Harry had learned to take care of his own grazed knees and elbows at the age of three.

The slap had been followed with a shove that sent him to the floor and Dudley had landed on Harry's chest with all of his not inconsiderable bulk, winding him thoroughly. Though his cousin had been inflicting quite a bit of pain on Harry at the time, instead of the malicious enjoyment that Harry had expected to see in those piggy little eyes, there had only been a sort of sick fear. Dudley was afraid of Harry, to the point of terror. The knowledge had not been comforting.

Uncle Vernon had then proceeded to tell Harry very clinically that if he breathed one word of protest to his Wizarding friends, then Vernon Dursley would kill his nephew himself. Harry would be locked in his room unless working on the chores that they set him, and any chore not finished to their standards would result in no food for that day. Uncle Vernon had then kicked Harry in the side and while he was attempting once again to recover his breath and deal with the pain, his Uncle had rummaged through Harry's pockets until he'd come up with Harry's wand.

Dudley had leapt off Harry and Uncle Vernon had ordered him to his room. Aunt Petunia, who had been standing by the door for the entire encounter, ignored Harry's desperate glance and instructed her son to lock up Harry's things - although Hedwig would be placed in Harry's room. Every morning Uncle Vernon appeared with a pen and piece of paper, stood over Harry until he'd written a note that passed approval, then watch his nephew send Hedwig on her way.

Harry found it hard to care. He was still grieving over Sirius and the disastrous attempt to thwart Voldemort that he'd led at the cost of his friends. The fact that his godfather had been killed coming to Harry's defence, coupled with the knowledge that he should have listened to Hermione and Ron, and mastered the Occlumency lessons no matter what he thought of Snape and his hatred, only added to the burden of despair Harry carried with him. Ron and Hermione had paid a terrible price for their support of him, and though he'd have been devastated if Hermione had died, if Ron had been killed Harry would have followed him without second thought. Thankfully both his friends had survived and Harry had made a pact with himself that he would keep them safe with whatever means possible. If that meant dissolving his friendship with them and distancing himself from everyone then so be it.

His cousin unlocked the door, and Harry dragged himself automatically to his feet, his gaze remaining fixed blankly on the walls. This was another part of the daily routine at Privet Drive, one that Dudley himself had instigated. Now that Harry's wand was safely locked somewhere in the house, Dudley had overcome some of his fear and reverted to their childhood pattern of beating the living daylights out of Harry whenever he felt sure his parents wouldn't notice. Harry had tried to defend himself a few times, but Dudley had evidently gained some knowledge of boxing at Smeltings - disproving Harry's initial theory that he was on the team because his layers of fat cushioned his opponents blows and when they'd tired of hitting them, Dudley could then take a big swing.

When the door clicked shut behind his cousin once more Harry dragged himself to the bed and lay down. He knew that in the morning the worst of the bruises would have faded, and the sharp pains he carried in his body would have retreated to a dull ache. His Aunt and Uncle ignored the faded traces of the beatings, and Harry knew better than to complain. As long as he could complete the list of chores and maintenance that they left on the table for him, there would be no move to curtail Dudley's pleasure.

The only positive thing that Harry could find in the situation - and it was more a 'laughing so I don't cry' attitude at that - was that the mental distance created by the physical pain and sheer grief had allowed him to master the skill of Occlumency pretty quickly. Voldemort would have an easier time getting into Gringotts, or Hogwarts for that matter, than he would getting into Harry's mind once more.

Harry's gaze shifted a little, falling on the calendar that Dudley had received last Christmas and discarded. Harry had been surprised to see it pinned to the wall of Dudley's second bedroom until he remembered that Dudley's Great Aunt Drucilla had sent it, and she was expected to give her nephew a sizeable inheritance when she died. Aunt Petunia probably didn't want to run the risk of upsetting her as Dudley's marks were as low as ever and it looked like he wouldn't be fit for much of anything when he finished school.

With a jolt, Harry realised that it was Ron's birthday today. His friend was turning sixteen, which meant that the present that Dobby the house-elf was keeping for Harry would be delivered today too. Harry had found it hard to hide the present - and the act of purchasing it - from his friend, what with them living in the same dorm room and all, but Dobby had presented him with a unique opportunity to keep his gift hidden and Harry had happily taken it.

Though his friend hadn't shown it, his stint as the Gryffindor House Quidditch Keeper had stiffened his hands and wrists considerably. Woods old robes and protective gear had fit well enough to play in, but the protective gear had, by reason of much use and practice, been moulded to fit their former Keeper. Ron would have grown into the robes by the time school started next year, but Harry had bought him a complete set of new protective pads from Quality Quidditch Supplies.

He'd had them delivered to Hermione and Dobby had then hidden them, along with a card from Harry. One of the school owls would deliver the package today and Harry spent a few moments singing 'Happy Birthday' to his friend silently. Wizards came of age at sixteen in the Wizarding community, and his friend would be allowed to learn to Apparate as well as use magic outside of school term - provided he wasn't doing it in front of Muggles. There would probably be a party at the Burrow tonight but, as it was only the second week of the summer holidays, Harry would not be able to leave the protection of Privet Drive.

To be honest, he hadn't wanted to - the chance that he would attract Voldemort's attention once again and thereby put the whole Weasley family at risk had pretty much dampened any desire he had to go to Ron's birthday party, and he hadn't been invited anyway. Hedwig sometimes returned with a letter from Ron, or Mrs Weasley, which Harry would be forced to show Uncle Vernon. On those occasions the daily reply would include some reference to their letter, albeit very carefully worded.

Unable to get comfortable with the new set of pains and bruises, Harry closed his eyes and fled into sleep. At least when he slept there was a chance he would dream of his friends, seeing them happy and safe.

0oo0oo0

"Congratulations, Mr Weasley, you've passed your test," the voice of the Witch in front of him was bored, but Ron couldn't care less. The moment he'd gotten home from Hogwarts, Ron had a mission. He was going to study and practice for his Apparate test and pass it the day after his sixteenth birthday. His mother had been a little taken aback when he'd stated his intentions the first evening home, but his father's eyes had gleamed with understanding.

"An excellent plan, Ron," Arthur Weasley had spoken before his wife could, "Young Harry will appreciate the company, I'm sure."

Ron grinned in memory. His father may have been a quiet man, but he was not dull. He often saw to the heart of his children's actions before their mother did, and would offer his opinions quietly, in a way that always held their attention, no matter what he said.

"Thank you," Ron remembered his manners and took the official certification she was holding out to him. He signed where indicated - pledging not to abuse his licence and to follow the guidelines laid down by the Ministry for anyone who Apparated - and then took his copies back into the corridor where his mother was waiting for him.

"I passed!" he told her, and yelped when she wrapped him in a fervent hug, "Mum!"

If there was anything more embarrassing than being hugged by a dewy eyed mother in the middle of the Ministry for Magic, Ron couldn't think of it.

"Oh congratulations, dear!" Molly let him go and straightened his robes automatically, "And on your first try too! Come on, your father will want to know!"

Ron followed along happily, unable to wipe the grin from his face. This was a freedom he'd wanted desperately for some time - and not just because it meant that travelling would be easier. He'd long argued against the exile that Harry was placed in each summer, though Professor Dumbeldore had stated time and again that Harry had to stay with his only blood relatives until his birthday. That meant that Harry had missed the comfort of being surrounded by friends for most of the summer holidays.

That didn't mean Harry forgot him - he'd managed to send a birthday present each year - often tucking it into Ron's trunk before they left school. They'd only exchanged cards for the most part, but this year his friend had sent him the perfect gift. His family had also done a bit extra - the sixteenth birthday was important to Wizards - but it had been Harry's gift that gave him the most pleasure. Not because the protective gear had been new and of excellent quality, but because Ron hadn't said anything about having to use ill-fitting gear, which meant that Harry had been watching him. The thought that his best friend had at least been concerned for his comfort gave Ron a very warm glow in the pit of his stomach - one that he tried not to indulge too often.

"Ron! How did you go?"

Ron looked up, startled. While he'd been mooning over his gift from Harry, his mother had ushered him down several floors and into his father's office without him even noticing.

"I passed, Dad," Ron grinned, and showed his father his licence. Arthur clapped his son on the shoulder and grinned at his wife. Their youngest son was growing in leaps and bounds, and gaining his independence fast.

"So, Mum, are you ready to go to Privet Drive with me?" Ron handed the licence over to his mother, who stowed it safely in her handbag. After all, the daily visits to Harry were the only reason Ron had worked so hard. If left to his own devices, he probably wouldn't have started studying the theory or the practice until well after his birthday. Once he'd let the reason for his eagerness be known he'd pestered his mother every day to agree that they would go straight to Harry the moment Ron passed his test.

"Yes, dear," Molly scolded affectionately, "As you've asked me every day since you've gotten home, we'll go to see Harry now."

"Give him my regards," Arthur held his wife's eye significantly. It hadn't taken Ron much effort to persuade them that he should be allowed to visit every day - it would allow the Weasley's to keep a closer watch on the teen that their son had befriended almost six years ago. Harry's letters were very … uncommunicative. Molly had been worried about the orphaned Wizard for some time. Which was why she hadn't objected too loudly when her son woke her up early this morning, eager to get the test done with so he would have more time with his friend.

No one could Apparate directly into or out of the Ministry, and since Voldemort's attack the security had been tripled. Molly Weasley ushered her son very firmly into one of the supervised Apparate zones in the lobby - guarded by senior Aurors, and a slew of protective spells - and ensured he knew exactly where he was going before Apparating herself. She would go first to ensure that the Muggles Harry lived with didn't panic and attack them. Ron counted to ten and followed, a grin on his face in anticipation of seeing his friend again.

0oo0oo0

Harry closed the door to the bathroom softly - he'd lost a days meals when Uncle Vernon accused him of slamming the doors - and headed back into his room. The Dursley's insisted he bathe every morning before appearing downstairs, and as it was his chore to cook their breakfasts Harry got up early to ensure that he was ready for whenever they decided to appear at the table. Late breakfast equalled no food, and Harry thought he might actually be losing weight as he'd had to tighten his belt another notch around Dudley's hand me down jeans.

He hung his towel in his perfectly neat room - the bed was made to Aunt Petunia's perfecting standards already as she liked to inspect the room on her way to breakfast and any item that was out of place earned him punishment - and walked as quietly down the stairs as possible. Uncle Vernon had docked him a days meals for walking too loudly. Harry had fast come to realise that any sound he made was punishable, unless of course he didn't answer his relatives quickly and politely enough. That, naturally, was punishable too.

He slipped silently into the kitchen and started pulling out the ingredients for the Dursley's usual late Saturday morning breakfast. He set the table, opened the blinds to allow the exact amount of light in that Aunt Petunia had decreed and waited until he heard his Aunt and Uncle stirring before getting the first round of cereal and toast ready. He heard Aunt Petunia go into his room and hoped that he hadn't forgotten anything today, as he hadn't eaten yesterday after Dudley accused him of sneaking food while he cooked it the previous night.

Uncle Vernon came down the stairs and went to fetch the morning paper from the front doorstep - Harry was forbidden to step out into the front yard at all, otherwise that would be his job too - while Aunt Petunia whisked into the kitchen and regarded him with a face that looked as if she'd been sucking the sourest lemon in England.

"Your towel is on the floor," she snapped and Harry contained a sigh. It must have slipped off the end of the bed after he left. That was it for today's meals then. Resigned, Harry bowed his head and recited the apology that he seemed to utter ten times a day.

"I'm sorry for my lazy habits Aunt Petunia. Please may I tidy it up?"

His Aunt jerked her head and he walked past her, hurrying along the hall to avoid his Uncle's return from wherever the paper had been lying. There was a new paperboy on their street and he seemed to delight in tossing the papers into the hardest to reach places he could find. Ordinarily, the whole thing would have amused him, but Harry knew it was only a matter of time before he was blamed for this too.

He was heading back down the stairs when a familiar heavy tread sounded behind him. Harry gripped the banister tightly, hoping desperately that Dudley would just thump him on the way past and not linger for any further 'pleasantries'.

"Hello Potter," Dudley growled in his ear, pinning him to the banister, "I'll be going out today, so we'll just have our little chat now…"

That was all the warning Harry got before one of Dudley's fists buried itself in his kidney. Pain exploded through his body, and Harry grunted, biting his lip desperately to keep any further noises to himself.

What happened next appeared to occur in slow motion. There were two very loud cracks in the kitchen and Aunt Petunia screamed. The front door opened to admit Uncle Dursley with the Saturday paper clutched in his hand, and Dudley's fist drove into his body again, actually lifting his feet from the floor. The pain was so great that for a second, Harry didn't realise he was toppling forward. Dudley hit him again and as Aunt Petunia burst out of the kitchen Harry went headfirst over the banister. His hand was still clutching it - in fact his grip had tightened from the pain, and for a sickening moment his body did a complete roll in the air before his grip broke and he came crashing feet first into the hall, in front of his Aunt and Uncles astonished gaze.

Harry felt both legs snap upon impact and couldn't contain the scream as he crumpled into an agonised heap on the floor, his glasses smashing beside him. Before any of the Dursley's could move, either towards or away from Harry, the kitchen door swung open behind Aunt Petunia again and Ron and Mrs Weasley burst into the hall.

"Harry!" Ron shouted, his eyes wide in horror as he shoved past Aunt Petunia to kneel at his best friends side. Harry's ears were ringing and the hall was ballooning in and out of focus, so it took him a moment to register Ron's presence.

"Ron," the whisper was pained and Ron gulped as tears ran unheeded down the pale face on the ugly carpet. He took Harry's hand gingerly and nodded.

"It's ok Harry, we'll get you to St Mungo's in no time, right Mum?"

"Oh Harry dear," Molly sounded near to tears, "Ron, we can't move him ourselves. I'll go to St Mungo's and get them to come here…"

"Mum…" Ron protested, but fell silent when she glared at him. Her hands were touching Harry very lightly, and there was a red glow at the end of her wand.

"Ron, he's hurt too badly for us to move… do you want to kill him? Don't argue with me! Just stay with him and make sure the Muggles don't touch him!" Molly was at her fiercest and Ron nodded. She stood up and took a few hurried steps away from the broken body on the floor before Disapparating. Harry flinched at the sound and then moaned.

Through a haze of pain, he watched as Ron looked at the three Muggles left behind. He was glaring fiercely at Dudley, who paled and disappeared up the stairs quickly. Uncle Vernon was red faced and trembling, but he stepped forward, his beady eyes fixed fiercely on Ron's face. When he spoke it was in a fierce sort of hissing snarl.

"Get out! We don't want your kind here! Bad enough we have to tolerate _him_ without having more of you in the house! We're decent, normal people and we'll have…"

"Decent!" Ron shouted, his voice rather shrill, brandishing his wand. It shot golden sparks at Uncle Vernon, who leapt back and batted at them with his newspaper, "Decent! Look what you've done! You've killed him!"

"Ron," Harry squeezed the fingers wrapped around his weakly, trying to calm his friend before someone got hurt. Ron had inherited his mothers temper, "Don't."

"Shh, Harry. Save your strength. We're getting you out of here. Do you have your wand?"

Harry shook his head a little and closed his eyes as another wave of fierce pain flowed through his battered body. He felt Ron rub their fingers together gently, an oddly comforting touch. Uncle Vernon was yelling that Harry's wand was locked up and they'd never get it, but Ron didn't bother trying to argue with the man to Harry's great relief.

"Accio wand!"

There was a pause, and then a series of smashing noises that had Aunt Petunia squeaking in panic. When he managed to force his eyes open again Ron was holding his wand in his hand. He managed a faint smile, relieved that it wasn't going to be left with the Dursley's. There was a rattle upstairs and then Hedwig hooted, announcing her return from Ron's house. Harry panicked, clawing at Ron a little and his friend looked down at him eyes wide. Comprehension crossed his face and he tilted his head up to the ceiling. Hedwig should not be left unprotected in this house.

"Hedwig!" Ron shouted, "Go to the Burrow! Go back!"

Hedwig screeched and they heard her depart. Harry slumped back again, gasping for breath. Ron was starting to look really worried and he crouched over his friend, his hands waving aimlessly in distress. There were multiple cracks and Ron whirled to point both the wands - they were still clutched in his hand - at the door. Aunt Petunia shrieked and pressed her already thin self flat to the wall.

Molly Weasley led a team of Healers into the hallway and Ron sighed in relief, turning back to his friend.

"It's ok, Harry, they're here," he smiled. Harry couldn't answer - he had finally blacked out.

0oo0oo0

Ron was forced to sit in the waiting room with his mother while the Healers whisked off Harry. The three Wizards looked very grim, and Ron had not been comforted when Molly had rushed off to contact Professor Dumbledore, it seemed to him that his mother was trying to get their Headmaster to the hospital before something terrible happened - like Harry's death. The waiting room was crowded with a variety of Witches and Wizards with various spell and magical creature related complaints and the noise levels were uncomfortably loud. Several of the waiting patients were floating around the ceiling, anchored in place by anxious relatives or a spare tentacle.

Ron chose a seat near the door that Harry had been whisked through and stuck his wand back inside his robe. He kept Harry's in his hand, choosing to polish it on the faded blue summer weight robe he was wearing over the Muggle clothes that he often wore in the holidays. A few blue sparks shot out of the tip and he sighed, tucking it in next to his own wand and leaning back in the chair.

"Mum! Is he coming?" Ron waved when his mother appeared and called to her as she crossed the room, avoiding the Witch with a variety of snakes for hair.

"Yes, I got hold of him and he's on the way. I also sent a message to your father," Molly sat down, a very worried look on her face. Ron leaned into her side a little, very glad that his mother was here with him.

"How could they do it?" Ron choked, his words pouring over the top of each other; "You saw the bruises…they've been hurting him for the last fortnight. And you should have heard what his Uncle said! He said that they were decent people and shouldn't have to put up with the likes of us! Decent! We've _never_…"

Molly put her arm around his shoulders and held him tightly, her kindly face troubled. Ron hid his face in her shoulder for a moment, his whole body shaking with anger and shock.

"Hush, Ron dear. It's going to be all right. Your father and I will ask Professor Dumbledore if we can have him for the rest of the holidays," she soothed, patting his arm. Ron sat up and glared at her, wholly unappeased.

"And what about next year?" he growled, "I'm telling you mum, he goes back to those … those … _Muggles_ over my dead body!"

"Calm down, Mr Weasley," Professor Dumbledore's voice was oddly soothing. Ron shot him a mutinous look, but subsided, mumbling under his breath. Neither mother or son was surprised by his sudden arrival - Dumbledore was famous for turning up out of the blue.

"Have you any news, Molly?" Dumbledore asked and she shook her head.

"Nothing yet, Albus," she sighed, her eyes on the doors at the end of the room. Dumbledore sat down opposite them and leaned forward. He looked very grim, and Ron was struck by the tension in his Headmaster's hands.

"Then perhaps you can tell me exactly what you saw?"

Ron and Molly took turns to report what had happened, and Ron made sure that the Headmaster knew that Harry's wand had been locked away, and his friend covered in bruises. He also related word for word Vernon Dursley's little rant. The Headmaster didn't move, and if it weren't for the cold angry glimmer of his blue eyes behind his half moon glasses, Ron would have thought him a statue.

"Professor Dumbledore," a voice called and all three of them stood up. The Healer who had called them was dressed in the usual green smock and wore her blonde hair back in a tight plait. She had a small medallion pinned to the front of her robes beneath the sigils for St Mungo's. When he got closer Ron could see it marked her rank as a Senior Healer. As she was quite young looking that meant she was one of the best and a part of him relaxed a little. Harry was indeed getting the best care.

"Ah, Healer Goodsby," Dumbledore smiled as they reached her side, "I take it you've seen our Mr Potter?"

"I have," she sounded grim, "Come with me."

She led them into a small office just through the doors that led into the emergency treatment area and waved them to a seat.

"Healer Goodsby was one of our most promising students…" Dumbledore said very quietly to Molly as they all chose seats. Ron perched on the edge of his, tension returning in a wave.

"I take it you'll want to speak to Mr Potter?" she asked Dumbledore, who nodded solemnly. His face was tense beneath his beard and Molly was fairly quivering.

"Hmm, well I can allow a short interview. We had to do a lot of work to repair his injuries, including several tricky potions for the internal damage… and you'll have to be very careful about the way you couch your questions, Professor. The combined effect of those potions can be a bit like Veritaserum, and he'll probably tell you things that he would normally keep to himself."

"What were his injuries?" Molly beat Ron to the question by only a second, and Goodsby looked even grimmer, if possible.

"He badly broke both of his legs and dislocated his shoulder too…probably when he grabbed the banister in the fall. He'd been hit repeatedly in the kidneys for quite some time; he was underweight and dehydrated as well. The fall caused further internal damage, and of course a nasty concussion. He'd also broken several ribs. We've put it all to rights, though he'll need to stay here for a few days of observation and carefully monitored diet. If you want to speak to him, Professor, you'll have to do it now…he'll go to sleep soon and likely not wake until tomorrow evening."

Dumbledore nodded and followed the Healer out, leaving Molly and Ron in stunned silence. Ron stared at the floor fiercely, his fists bunched inside his robe. He was aware that his mother was dabbing at her eyes and sniffing, but didn't look over at her, his own eyes and throat burning too badly.

0oo0oo0

Ginny was waiting for them at home, along with a very agitated Hedwig. Ron had insisted on seeing his friend before they left, and they'd sat with Harry until he succumbed to the sleep the Healers insisted he needed. By the time they left St Mungo's it was getting on for teatime, and Molly had decided they'd go straight home.

"What happened to Harry?" Ginny demanded the moment they stepped into the kitchen, but she was drowned out by Hedwig's agitated screeches. Ron managed to coax her onto his arm and took her up to his room, leaving his mother to deal with Ginny.

Dumbledore had left St Mungo's after questioning Harry, presumably to go and see the Dursley's. Ron wanted desperately to go see them himself, but knew that if he did he'd hex them into oblivion and probably end up in Azkaban Prison. Once the door to his room was shut, Ron sat on the small bookcase under his window and petted Hedwig's feathers until she calmed down. He spoke to her gently, the way he'd heard his friend do so often, and was relieved when she responded, settling her feathers back into place and fixing him with a very intent look. Ron's owl Pigwidgeon was hooting at her very softly from his cage.

"You'll be able to see Harry soon, I promise," Ron reassured her, "He'll have to spend some time at the hospital, but then we'll have him back. You're not to go back to the Dursley's, understand?"

Hedwig hooted once and blinked at him. Ron smiled and placed her on top of Pigwidgeon's cage for the time being, before sorting out some water and owl treats for her. There was a knock on his door just as he finished settling her in, and he sighed, closing his eyes. Ron didn't feel up to dealing with his rather excitable family at the moment - his mother would be all maternal concern and smothering, and Ginny would be furiously indignant.

"Come in," the words slipped from his mouth very reluctantly, and Ron was very glad to see his father step into his cramped room. Arthur Weasley was known for his calm temperament, and patience. Of course once his patience ran out he was just as much of a firecracker as his wife. None of his children tried him that far more than once.

"Dad," Ron offered a small smile, "I was just settling Hedwig down."

His father looked over at the now serene white owl and nodded before sitting on Ron's rather rumpled bed. He patted the blanket in invitation and Ron joined him readily.

"How are you, Ron?" Arthur's voice was very gentle and Ron felt his eyes sting in reply. He clenched his fist and took a rather shaky breath, determined not to cry - after all, it wasn't him in St Mungo's. It wasn't him who'd been nearly beaten to death by the people who were supposed to protect him.

"Me?" the tone was very bitter, and startled Ron as much as anyone, "I'm fine!"

Arthur put his arm around his youngest son and squeezed his shoulders gently. Ron had as much right as anyone to be upset, though the boy would deny any such thing. His second youngest had always maintained a very gruff and strong front, but he felt things deeply.

"It must have been quite a shock this morning, to find Harry in such condition."

"I knew that he hated the Dursley's," Ron's voice was strained, "And I knew that they locked him up that one time… but Dad, they're his family… All my life I've known that you and Mum loved me, and did what you thought best for me. If I got into trouble I knew that you'd back me up as long as I owned up to it and took my punishment. You never yelled at me for no reason, and you never just belted me. And even when Mum gave us a smack…"

"There, there son," Arthur rubbed the shoulder his hand was clutching and rocked them both a little, as he had when Ron was a baby, ignoring the tears and shaking, "Harry will recover, and then we'll have him with us."

"How much more is he supposed to take? His parents are dead, and so is Sirius, and then they… I _hate_ them!" Ron choked the words out passionately and Arthur didn't say anything more. Truth was he was just as angry as his son - and his imagination took him a lot further. From the very first visit that Harry had made to the Burrow, he and Molly had noticed several disturbing little behaviours that spoke of an unhappy and insecure childhood. Harry always took part in whatever chores were going, despite their assurances that he didn't need to. He knew his way around a kitchen, although he cooked without magic, and his cleaning skills were even more exacting than Molly's. Whenever they were in a family group he would fade into the background, trying not to be noticed - and when he was noticed, there was always that look that said he expected to be sent away. He also seemed to stiffen when someone touched him, and it was obvious to them both that hugs and pats had been very rare. The one time he'd injured himself, tripping over Fred's broom and skinning both hands thoroughly, he'd simply disappeared into the bathroom to clean and tend to the cuts himself, and Molly had to fish him out so she could do it. Harry hadn't known quite what to do with himself.

Ron had calmed down, and was wiping his face defiantly. Arthur squeezed him one more time and then loosened his hold, withdrawing his grim stare from the wall to offer his son a rather washed out smile. As much as he'd like to storm the Dursley's home and demand explanations, he knew that they'd have to be content with making Harry feel as welcome and safe as they could.

"We can't change the past, son," he said firmly, "But we can make sure that Harry is welcomed to our home, and that he feels he is a part of the family. Your mother and I have always tried to make him feel welcome, and I know that you and Ginny have too. We'll just have to show him that he has a family here who wants him very much. Wash your face and hands before you come downstairs for tea."

"Will we be seeing Professor Dumbledore tonight?" Ron asked, getting up obediently. Arthur was proud of his youngest son - he had a good heart and was growing into a fine man.

"I would say he'll be here for tea," his father nodded and left the room quietly, with Ron trailing behind. He went into the bathroom while his father continued down the stairs and washed his face and hands thoroughly, before staring in the mirror and trying to flatten his rather rumpled hair.

"You need a comb, young man," the mirror informed him and Ron sighed, leaving the bathroom and heading down the stairs. Ginny was already setting the table while Molly got the last of their tea ready and his father spoke to Dumbledore.

"Hello, Professor," Ron said quietly, and his Headmaster looked over at him, his red, green and yellow robes rather uncharacteristically rumpled.

"Good evening Mr Weasley," Dumbledore replied, "I understand young Harry was sleeping peacefully when you left him?"

"Yes sir," Ron nodded and went to help Ginny. She was looking rather subdued, and Ron saw that she'd set a place for the Professor. He walked back and forth from the kitchen with the food his mother had prepared while Ginny fetched drinks for them all. The adults joined them at the table and for a few minutes the conversation concerned itself with requests such as 'pass the salad please'.

"Professor, what happens now?" Ron asked when they had all been served, "Did the Dursley's…"

"The information that Harry gave me was most complete," Dumbledore said heavily, "They were unable to deny the truth. I have removed his belongings from their house, and he will be spending the summer elsewhere."

"Not here?" Ginny looked up from her plate, and glanced at her mother, "But I thought…"

"Unfortunately the protective charm that the Dursley's reinforced each year by housing Harry over the summer has been irrevocably broken. I am afraid that it is only a matter of time before the Daily Prophet discovers Harry's presence at St Mungo's, and makes their report, though I will do my best to prevent that. Lord Voldemort will undoubtedly know what this means and the first place he will seek Mr Potter is here. For his safety and your own, it would be better that Harry does not reside here for the summer."

"But Albus! You can't send him to Grimmauld Place! The memories alone…" Molly protested, and Arthur nodded his agreement. Harry would be just as unhappy in his godfathers' house as he was with the Muggles. He put his fork down and added his support to his wife's argument.

"We'll increase the security on the house and do whatever else you think best, but Molly and I both want Harry here, Dumbledore. We'll send Ginny to her Aunt's for the holiday's and Ron…"

"No way! I'm with Harry. No matter where he goes this summer," Ron vetoed that idea in a flash, and braced himself for the argument he knew would follow. Harry would not spend any more time alone, and if anyone wanted to say otherwise they'd have the fight of their lives on their hands. He was sixteen now, and while he would obey his parents rules whilst under their roof, a man had to take a stand sometime. Molly was glaring at him, but Dumbledore spoke first.

"That would solve a problem for me," his voice silenced Molly before she could rebuke Ron's bad manners, "I was going to house Harry at Hogwarts for the summer. If young Mr Weasley here is willing to stay with his friend, that would relieve my mind considerably."

"Hogwarts?" Molly asked, and Ron bit back a groan. They'd be stuck with Filch and Mrs Norris he was sure, though on the bright side maybe they could spend some of their time with Hagrid.

"There are always several of the teachers in residence over the holidays, as they prepare for the new school year, and it is much more secure than Grimmauld place. With the death of Sirius, the house will eventually belong to Harry - until his twenty-first birthday it is held in trust for him. However, I quite agree with Molly that Harry should not be made to spend his summer there when his loss is so fresh in his mind. There is also the problem of Kreacher - the house elf has disappeared, presumably to go to Narcissa Malfoy - the next closest relative of the Black family. He will undoubtedly spill as many of the Order's secrets as he can. His dislike of us all was plain from the start."

"So, when is Harry going to Hogwarts?" Ron asked, "Should I send Hedwig there now?"

"He will spend another three days in St Mungo's, and I will arrange a port key to take him to the school from there. It would be best if you travelled with him Ron, and send your trunks on by Floo network. You should send both owls on then," Dumbledore replied, "Provided of course, that your parents agree."

"Of course we do," Arthur said firmly, holding his wife's gaze, "We don't want Harry to be alone for another summer."

There was a slight pause, then Molly nodded her agreement, looking unhappy. She had wanted Harry with them to give him the care and attention he had never received - a bit of spoiling to give him happier memories of family than the ones he'd grown up with.

"Is Harry ever going to have go back to the Dursley's?" Ginny asked, and Dumbledore shook his head.

"I have filed for an order of Separation for him with the Ministry. Next summer we will have to consider very carefully where he will reside. But there is time enough for that later," Dumbledore put his knife and fork down across his empty plate and beamed at Molly, complimenting her cooking. Ron got up to help clear away while his mother got the pudding ready.

"Professor, will we be able to go to Diagon Alley? I don't have my school supplies yet," Ron frowned in thought, "In fact, we don't even have our OWL results either, so we won't know what to get."

"Your letters will find you at Hogwarts. As soon as the OWL results have arrived one of the Professors will take you to Diagon Alley for your supplies - we hope to put the Death Eaters off your scents by sending you much earlier than anyone can expect," Dumbledore replied firmly, "Also, there is the small problem of Harry's clothes. I am no longer inclined to allow him to wear his cousins cast offs, though there was nothing we could do about it before."

"I can get him some clothes before he leaves St Mungo's," Molly spoke up determinedly, and Dumbledore nodded, holding up a hand.

"Only one or two changes, please Molly. I feel that Harry should be given the opportunity to buy something of his own," he informed her, "Professor McGonagal is at the school at this very moment, and she will be instructing Harry for Apparate Licence. Once he has passed I thought he might like to spend some time in Muggle London. Ron will of course accompany him, and no Death Eater would think to search him out there."

Ron hid a small grin of excitement. He'd inherited his father's fascination with Muggles, and spending the day in their world - even shopping for clothes, which he usually hated - would be something of a treat. And for once, Harry would be able to show off his knowledge of the Muggle world, rather than relying on Ron for help deciphering the Wizard one.

0oo0oo0

Two very large hands reached out and steadied Harry as the portkey released him. Harry leaned into the grip gratefully, still rather unsteady on his feet, and not all that keen to fall over onto the hard stone flags outside the Great Hall. He looked up into concerned dark eyes and summoned a smile for the half-giant.

"Hello Hagrid," he reached out and patted the other man's chest lightly. He'd only been out of bed for a few hours, and desperately wanted to get back into it. Ron had been acting rather strangely during his visits to Harry in St Mungo's, and Harry was worried that their friendship was forever ruined now that Ron knew how the Dursley's had been treating him. After all, if they thought he wasn't good enough for them to want to keep around, why would Ron? He'd been horrified when Ron had told him that he was coming to Hogwarts to keep Harry company over the summer. His friend had put himself back into the line of fire - Harry knew that the Daily Prophet had been sniffing around the recent events, which meant that Voldemort would be able to figure out exactly what had happened and come after him again. Ron would just have to be persuaded to leave Harry and go home.

He was brought back to the present when Hagrid pulled him into a very careful hug, patting his back very lightly. He was treating Harry as if he was made of the finest bone china, a rather rare thing for Hagrid, who chose to express his affection in rougher touches.

"Hello Harry," even his greeting was subdued, "I'm so sorry lad…"

"Not your fault," Harry's voice was rather muffled, but he returned the hug as hard as he could and then let go, waiting for Hagrid to release him as well. The groundskeeper did so with a final, careful pat and turned to greet Ron. Harry looked around, grateful that Hagrid had been the only one waiting to greet them, then tuned back into the conversation when Ron tugged on his elbow.

"Come on, we'll go up to the Gryffindor dorms. Hagrid was saying that Hedwig is already here in the owlry; she'll want to see you."

Harry waved goodbye to Hagrid and started trudging up the stairs. Though he only felt the slightest of twinges in his body, he was still quite tired as sleeping in St Mungo's had been very difficult. Healers and Nurses kept coming in to check on him, disturbing his sleep, and there had been a lot of strange noises at night.

He felt Ron reach out and cup his elbow a little hesitantly, but knew that if he jerked away from the support he'd likely fall over again. It was the little gestures like this that Harry knew he would miss the most. Ron was not the most demonstrative person, but since he'd found Harry in the Dursley's front hall he'd been reaching out and touching more often. Harry had rarely experienced friendly touch, and each one warmed him in a most indescribable manner.

"Sorry," Harry muttered as they reached the floor that their dorm was on and Ron had to take even more of his weight. Harry was puffing pretty hard and it felt like he'd just run a few laps around the castle wearing lead boots.

"Yeah, well, you just spent three days in bed. You'll get your energy back," Ron sympathised, "We'll have plenty of time to get back into training for Quidditch too. I've decided to try out for Keeper again this year."

They walked slowly along the corridor towards the Fat Lady. She was watching them rather sympathetically and Ron seemed to realise that neither of them knew the correct password just as they reached her portrait. He really didn't want to drag an already exhausted Harry around the castle looking for a teacher, nor did he want to leave Harry sitting alone in the corridor while he went searching alone. Luckily the Fat Lady solved this dilemma for them.

"The password is 'friendship' dears," she told them, and Ron controlled the urge to gape at her in astonishment. She swung forward before they could reply and he helped his friend through the portrait hole. Harry pulled free once they were inside and headed for an armchair by the empty fireplace. It was time to put his plan into action.

"Look, Ron," he said once he'd managed to sit down, "I've been thinking."

"Yeah?" Ron flopped down onto the couch nearby and raised his eyebrows at him. Harry had to control a surge of affection for his friend, sprawled in a ratty blue robe and worn jeans, utterly comfortable and comforting. Utterly loveable.

"Yeah," Harry swallowed, "I'd really rather you didn't stay here this summer."

Ron stared at him in astonishment, the back of his neck flushing just a little bit pink.

"What?"

"Yeah," Harry continued doggedly, "I just want to be alone, alright?"

"Harry, last summer you complained that you were left alone and out of the loop," Ron pointed out, a hurt look on his face, "I thought…"

"You thought wrong," Harry interrupted, "Look, I just don't want you here. You know that Dumbledore is worried that Voldemort… stop flinching!… will have another go at me! I'll be stuck in the castle all summer and there's no point in you staying here. I don't want you to. Go home."

The look on Ron's face was heartbreaking, and Harry immediately felt guilty that he'd caused it, but he stuck to his guns. If Ron was killed, Harry wouldn't survive it; and he didn't want to see Ron hurt either. Ron was the most important person in Harry's world, always had been to some extent, and he couldn't risk losing him to the most evil Wizard alive.

"No," Ron replied after a moment, "You're not staying here alone. If this is about the Dursley's…"

"It's not!" Harry swallowed hard at the name, "I just don't want you here!"

"Tough," Ron's face hardened and he got up from the couch, folding his arms as he started to pace, "I'm not leaving you alone all summer."

"You'll be in danger!" Harry was losing it, he knew. Bellowing at Ron would not persuade his friend to leave, and Harry couldn't bear to take the next step of destroying their friendship. He wasn't strong enough and he hated himself for it.

"So will you!" Ron snapped back, "And two of us stand a better chance than one, you know that!"

"Why won't you just leave me!" Harry cried in frustration and Ron swung around with a wild look on his face.

"Because I love you, you idiot!"

Silence like a scream fell on the common room and the two teens stared at each other, one horrified, the other barely daring to breathe lest the words be taken back. Before Harry could even blink, Ron turned green and bolted for the nearest toilet, slamming the door behind him and locking it. Harry could hear his friend throwing up violently, and bit back a sob.

Despite his best intentions he had ruined any chance of friendship with Ron, let alone something he'd never named yet yearned for with all his being. His desire to see his friend safe and happy had backfired horribly. The look on Ron's face as he ran from the room confirmed that.

The silence in the common room was unbroken, even by sounds from the toilet where Ron was currently hiding. Harry stared at the armchair opposite him, his mind whirling. After a very long while he stirred in his chair and pulled his wand out of the pocket of his borrowed robe. He used a summoning charm to fetch parchment, quill and ink, too unsteady to stand and get them himself. Leaning forward dizzily he picked up the quill and started writing, hoping that he could salvage something of their friendship.

Once the ink was dry Harry folded the letter carefully and staggered to his feet. He weaved his way rather drunkenly to the toilet and thumped down onto his knees outside the door. Carefully he pushed the parchment under the door and then crawled over to lean on the opposite wall. Harry drew his knees up to his chest and waited patiently for some kind of sign from Ron.

0oo0oo0

Ron thumped his fist onto the edge of the toilet as his breakfast and dinner left him behind. His mind was shouting 'stupid, stupid, stupid' at him in an endless litany and he heaved a few more times before sitting back. Why had he said that? Why had he shouted those words at his best friend?

That they were true was not something that Ron could deny, or even take back. He loved Harry with all his heart and soul, but he'd never meant to tell the man! Harry liked girls, hell, he'd dated Cho Chang last year, on and off. Ron thought girls were all right, but it was boys he noticed more, and Harry he'd noticed the most. Reaching up with a shaky hand, Ron flushed the toilet and wiped his mouth absently with his hand. Once he was sure he wouldn't throw up again he staggered upright and went to wash his face and mouth properly. He turned off the tap and stared gloomily into the mirror above the sink.

A rather pale, red-haired and freckled teen stared back at him. Ron examined his face carefully and sighed. He was the first to admit that he wasn't the most attractive boy on the planet - though he wasn't ugly either. He was thin, gawky and going through one of those growth spurts that left him awkward and feeling rather ungainly. Harry on the other hand was quite handsome. He had the sort of careless grace and unconscious good looks that would have been insufferable if he'd acted like he knew about them. Ron was convinced that Harry didn't know how good looking he was, and had often wished he could tell him. Part of that ignorance, Ron now knew, was the Dursley's fault. They'd never made an effort to find anything positive about their nephew, and had made sure he knew it.

Ron turned away from the mirror and leaned back on the sink, staring down at his scuffed trainers. The problem wasn't how attractive and … well, loveable… he found Harry, the problem was that Harry didn't feel the same way about him. Now that his friend knew, would he be able to stay Ron's friend, or would he break all ties and turn his back on him? Ron bit his lip and brooded over the question, unable to come up with an answer at all. He knew exactly what it was he liked about Harry, but he'd never really figured out why Harry seemed to like him.

Ron came back to himself with a start and realised that quite a bit of time had passed while he brooded in the toilet. Resolving to worry about it later and go see what could be salvaged from their friendship now, Ron pushed off from the basin and crossed to the door. As he was reaching to open it he spotted the parchment that had been slid inside with his name on it. He bent to pick it up, marvelling he hadn't noticed it before. Leaning against the door, Ron unfolded the parchment and began to read. Harry's writing was rather shaky, but Ron was very familiar with the peculiarities of his friends' penmanship and had no trouble deciphering it.

__

'Ron,

You were the first friend I ever had in my life, and I'm really hoping right now that you still are my friend, despite what I'm about to tell you.

This is really hard… you know how bad I am at speeches, and writing it doesn't make it any easier.

I wanted to tell you why I want you to leave me alone here, but I was so afraid that you would be angry with me. You were angry anyway, but Ron, I had to see you safely away from Voldemort's biggest target. You see, I've lost so many people in my life - pathetic as it sounds - and if I lost you too I would never recover from it. Everyone expects me to be the Boy Who Lived, and just bear up under everything, like a good little boy, but almost losing you to those brains really opened my eyes.

I've always felt sick when you get hurt, even in our first year at Hogwarts when McGonagal's chess set nearly killed you. I wanted to chuck it all in then, and probably would have if Hermione hadn't been there to take care of you. Each year you've gone into danger with me and each year it gets harder and harder for me to see you hurt. You see if you died it would kill me.

I mean it, Ron. I'd die with you. You are all I have in the world, especially now that Sirius is gone. I could barely stand to see the bandages on your arms last term. I felt like I should have begged your forgiveness - I nearly did, except I knew it would embarrass you.

You're my best friend, the first one I ever made in my whole life, and I need your friendship more than I can ever say. There's only one problem. Sometimes I want more, more than I thought you could ever give me. I know I don't deserve you, but anything you can give me I'll be grateful for. You see, the people that love me keep leaving me behind, and the ones that were supposed to love me threw me away.

Please don't take it back.

Please don't throw me away.

I love you too.

Harry'

Ron wiped his face absently and dried his hand on his robe. As love letters went this was nigh on perfect, and he knew that Harry would probably never write him another one. They just weren't those sort of people. He refolded the note and placed it securely in his robes before unlocking and opening the door.

Harry was crouched on the floor opposite, trembling, his face white, and when Ron reached him, ice cold. Tearful eyes found Ron's face and bloodless lips parted, trying to speak. Ron shushed him, wrapping his arms around his friend and rocking them back and forth, like his father had him only a few days ago.

"Shh, Harry," Ron crooned, "It's ok mate. We're ok. I'm not leaving you and we're still friends I promise. We'll work it all out."

Freezing hands knotted in Ron's robe and Harry made a croaking noise that Ron shushed absently. After a long moment he pulled Harry to his feet and practically carried him upstairs to the dorm. Someone had laid out pyjamas and Ron started stripping his best friend matter-of-factly, rubbing his arms briskly to warm him up before helping him into the pyjamas and tucking him into bed. Harry had a pretty good grip on Ron's fingers and the red head settled against the headboard, rubbing his thumb over his friends' knuckles until the grip loosened and Harry went to sleep.

0oo0oo0

Dobby woke them with breakfast. At some time during the night Ron had slipped down on the bed to lie with an arm over Harry's waist. They were cuddled together, though the room was warm, and their fingers were tangled together.

"Master Harry sir!" Dobby squeaked happily, "Dobby has your breakfast! Dobby has yours too, Master Wheezy."

"Good morning," Ron grinned at the confused expression on Harry's face, "Time to face the day. You must be starved - you missed tea last night."

"So did you," Harry pointed out tentatively and Ron's stomach growled in reply. The two laughed and sat up, Dobby beaming at them all the while. Once they had settled side by side on Harry's bed - Ron still fully dressed and sitting on top of the blankets - Dobby levitated the magically expanded tray onto their laps.

"Kippers! Thanks Dobby!" Ron exclaimed, lifting the cover off the plate in front of him. Harry still seemed a little stunned and Ron took the cover off his plate for him. Harry's favourite breakfast of chipolatas and scrambled eggs was revealed and he roused himself to thank the house elf for his kindness.

"It is Dobby's pleasure, sirs," Dobby nodded emphatically, "Dobby has been given an enormous honour by Professor Dumbledore! Dobby is to be Master Harry and Master Wheezy's elf for the summer!"

Ron reflected that Dumbledore had probably done this to avoid trouble with the other house elves. Dobby was as devoted to Harry as ever - and would devote as much time to him as he could, despite his other chores. Better to be given official permission by his employer than cause the elf to feel that he needed to punish himself for the divided loyalties. Of course, if Hermione ever found out, she'd have a fit. She was still trying to free the house elves.

"That's really great news, Dobby," Harry took a deep breath, seeming to wake up properly. He picked up his fork and sampled the eggs, while Ron took a couple of pieces of toast from the rack. He buttered them both and put one on Harry's plate with a rather pointed look. His mother had issued Ron with strict instructions to ensure his friend ate well and rested. Ron wasn't about to defy her.

"Yeah, Dobby. Harry needs a bit of care at the moment, and having you in charge of his meals will be a real help," Ron added his two Knuts worth. Instead of smiling in pleasure, Dobby's eyes filled with big tears.

"Dobby!" Harry exclaimed as the elf burst into noisy sobs. Ron wondered what he had said to make the elf so upset. He'd thought he was paying the elf a compliment.

"Oh sir! Dobby has heard of the treachery Master Harry suffered! Dobby remembers the trouble he got Master Harry into when Dobby was still a slave! This is all Dobby's fault!"

"No it's not, Dobby," Harry gave Ron a rather desperate look and Ron wriggled out from under the tray, swallowing his mouthful hastily and crouching down in front of the sobbing elf. He patted Dobby's shoulder gingerly and fished around for a tissue to offer so the elf could dry his tears.

"Dobby, the Muggles Harry lived with treated him the way they did because of who they were, not because of anything Harry, or you or I did. It's not your fault. It's theirs," Ron said rather awkwardly. Dobby hiccupped several times and wiped his eyes timidly.

"Master Wheezy is sure?" he asked rather pathetically, and Ron nodded emphatically.

"I am," he said in his best Prefect voice. Dobby looked over at Harry, who nodded as well and the elf straightened up, blowing his nose and tucking the tissue into the bright green bike shorts he was wearing. They were on the baggy side and clashed rather violently with the neon blue singlet he had found. He was also wearing the usual mismatched socks, one covered in flying brooms, and the other the rather lumpy black sock that Harry had given him as a Christmas present years ago.

"Master Wheezy's breakfast will get cold," he patted the hand that Ron still had on his shoulder, and Ron took that as his cue to get back on the bed and finish his kippers, "Dobby will be back for the tray, sirs, and to tidy the room. Professor McGonagal has also asked Dobby to pass on a message. Professor McGonagal would like to see Master Harry and Master Wheezy in her study at ten o'clock."

"We'll be there, thanks Dobby," Harry nodded and the elf offered him a rather wan smile before leaving the room, shutting the door quietly behind him. Ron wriggled back under the tray and addressed himself to his breakfast again. After a few minutes he became aware of Harry's sidelong glances, and turned to look at his friend. Ron was pretty sure Harry was wondering if they still had a friendship at all, and put his friend's mind at rest the best way he knew how. Taking out the note and holding it up so Harry could see it, Ron took his friend's hand and smiled.

"You could never want more than I can give, and I'm never throwing you away. You're stuck with me now, Potter."

"Good," Harry whispered, "Couldn't think of anyone I'd rather be stuck with."

Ron chuckled, stowed the note away carefully again and went back to his breakfast. They'd have to hurry if they were going to be on time for McGonagal and they both needed showers at the very least.

0oo0oo0


	2. Summer Hols 2

Breakfast passed for Harry in a happy daze. Ron hadn't rejected him, or taken back his words. They were still friends, and from what Ron had said, there was a chance that they'd be more. Ron had to pull him along to the bathroom and remind him to do the littlest things. He'd worried that Ron would get cross about that, but his friend kept giving him a little grin. Harry realised why when he caught sight of himself in the mirror - he had the dopiest look on his face, a kind of soft expression. As happy as he was he didn't want to walk into McGonagal's study looking like that - she'd have him up to Madam Pomfrey in a flash.

Ron had laid out a new shaving kit. At fifteen he'd only needed to shave once a week, and last year he'd been using a safety razor and foam. The kit he balanced on the hand basin was obviously new. The leather bag was made of a maroon hide, giving Harry a clue as to who had given Ron the gift, and from it he drew soap, a shaving brush and a straight razor. From the glimpse Harry got inside the bag there was also a strop - a leather strip that Ron could sharpen the razor on.

"Birthday present from Dad," Ron answered his unspoken question, "He's given one to all of us boys when we turn sixteen - goodness knows what he'll get for Ginny."

"Unless she uses it for her legs," Harry said without thinking and Ron choked on his lather with laughter. Harry laughed too, relieved that he hadn't ruined things. He let Ron shoo him out of the bathroom and went to get dressed, discovering that he had only a few changes of clothes and that they were all in the Wizard styles.

Ron whistled in surprise when he caught sight of Harry in his robes and rather formal shirt, waistcoat and trousers. There was even a new pair of shoes that buttoned up along the sides. Harry actually liked the change of style, though he'd struggled with the unfamiliar fastenings on the shoes, trousers and robes. He was already planning to get some Muggle clothes as well, though he'd have to ask permission first.

"Mum," Ron shook his head, "Dumbledore only brought your school stuff along - he thought you mightn't want the reminders from your other clothes, though I think he's got the Weasley jumpers for you. Mum said she'd buy you some new stuff. You look very smart, Harry."

"Thanks," Harry blushed a little, unsure of accepting the compliment and relieved when Ron didn't push things. They tidied up hurriedly, despite knowing that Dobby would be more than willing to clean the room from top to bottom.

"How are you feeling today?" Ron asked as they hurried down the stairs, "You seem a bit livelier."

"I feel a lot better. I was just so tired when we got here…" Harry trailed off and Ron grunted.

"Yeah, I imagine that St Mungo's is a rotten place to sleep," he sympathised, "It was hard enough learning to sleep through Dean's snores in our first year."

Harry laughed, and reached out to knock on the study door. Professor McGonagal called permission to enter and Harry pushed the door open, going in first. McGonagal was wearing her usual robes and bun, her eyes sweeping Harry from head to toe in a very piercing look. She smiled at him quite kindly and waved them both to seats.

"I like the new robes, Mr Potter," she said gently, "You look quite smart."

Ron stifled a chuckle and Harry flushed a little. He had been dreading her first remarks, not wanting to have to deal with any memories of the past fortnight right now. She seemed to have realised that and he was grateful for her discretion.

"Thank you, Professor," he replied, wishing he could nudge his friend before they got into trouble. It may have been the summer holidays, but Harry knew that their Head of House would have as little patience for silly behaviour as she did during school hours. Thankfully Ron sat up properly and fixed a look of polite inquiry upon their teacher.

"I'll come straight to the point, Harry," she said quietly, "You're sixteen in two weeks time, and as you know that makes you of age in the Wizarding world. At that time you are eligible for your licence to Apparate. Normally, you'd go to the Ministry for your test, but Professor Dumbledore has arranged for me to test you on the theory and practical here."

"Thanks Professor!" Harry exclaimed. He had forgotten about that aspect of turning sixteen and glanced at Ron, realising he must have passed his test if he had been at the Dursley's.

"Once you have passed - and I expect you to work very hard Mr Potter, and pass on your first attempt - you will be allowed to visit Muggle London for a day to procure for yourself a few more personal items. I am aware that your… wardrobe is limited at the moment. Mr Weasley will accompany you, and you will of course take all the usual precautions. Your OWL results will be here in three weeks time, after which Professor Flitwick has agreed to take you to Diagon Alley to procure your school supplies for your sixth year. With the exception of those two excursions, you will remain on school property at all times, and you _will not_ leave the castle after seven at night. Is that perfectly clear boys?"

"Yes Professor," Harry said, with Ron chorusing along. Harry was determined to be on his best behaviour for the rest of the holidays. He didn't want to risk being sent back to Privet Drive next year.

"Very well," McGonagal stood, "I have here the theory that you need to learn, Mr Potter. You will read it over very carefully today and I will test your understanding of it tomorrow at ten, here. We will have a lesson every morning until dinner and then you will be free for the rest of the day. Mr Weasley, you will report to Hagrid in the mornings, I am told he has a few chores he could use your assistance in."

"Yes, Professor," Ron said softly. Harry took the book that McGonagal was holding out and they left. Ron was giving Harry a dark look, and Harry managed to keep the chuckles under control until the door was closed.

"He'll have me mucking out blast ended skrewts or something," Ron groaned, playing it up, "At least you get to sit inside with McGonagal."

"Yeah, getting tutored for a test that I'm not allowed to fail," Harry reminded him and they grinned at each other.

0oo0oo0

They had asked Dobby where the teachers ate their meals, and upon being informed that they ate together in the Great Hall, both teens decided to join them, though they were going to sit at the Gryffindor table. Harry's conscience was still tweaking him about making Dobby do extra work, and Ron didn't care where they ate as long as they did. He was going through a 'bottomless pit' phase when it came to food, and as Harry was under strict orders to put on a few stone they found their end of the table well stocked.

They had spent most of yesterday in a complex dance around each other, testing the waters and reaffirming their friendship. Harry had also been studying 'A beginners guide to Apparating and Disapparating' and Ron had helped test him on it. Last night Harry had looked at Ron very shyly before getting into his own bed. Ron had grabbed his own pillow and climbed in with Harry matter-of-factly. Neither one had said anything beyond goodnight, and they'd woken the next morning spooned together, fingers tangled across Harry's stomach.

Ron had taken the time last night to send Pigwidgeon to the Daily Prophet with a subscription notice, and the owl arrived as the teens entered the Great Hall. Harry was wearing a different coloured shirt under the waistcoat today - a brilliant shimmering green that Ron secretly admired on his friend.

"I'll go you halves on the subscription," Harry offered and Ron accepted readily enough, telling his friend that he could pay tomorrow. They pushed their plates to one side and put the paper on the table between them, taking it in turns to turn the page while the other snatched a hasty bite or commented on an article they'd just read. After almost a month, the hysteria about Voldemort had died down, and although a few rumours and speculative pieces were included in today's paper, there was nothing really alarming.

Ron folded the paper and shoved it into his robe as Harry finished the last sip of his tea. They got up and headed out of the Great Hall, splitting up to go to their respective tasks. Ron walked out of the front doors into the bright sunlight and walked quickly down the path that led to Hagrid's hut. The half giant was waiting by his hut, with Fang sitting at his feet. When the boarhound spotted Ron he leapt up, barking and ran to greet the red headed teen.

"Alrigh' then, Ron?" Hagrid called in greeting and Ron pushed the dog off his chest, walking over to the groundskeeper. He smiled up at the man and nodded.

"Yeah, you?" he asked and Hagrid nodded in reply. He hesitated and then asked in a positively diffident tone,

"How's Harry?"

Ron beamed up at him, knowing that Harry held a special place in Hagrid's heart. Hagrid had rescued Harry as a baby, and then fetched him from the Dursley's when he was eleven. Hagrid had been Harry's first contact with the Wizarding world, and he seemed to have quite a soft spot for the dark haired teen.

"He's well enough. He had a lot more energy this morning, and he seemed happier," Ron assured the other man, and Hagrid's face cleared up a bit. He nodded, patted Ron on the shoulder hard enough to make him almost lose his balance and turned to grab a couple of tools from where they were leaning against his hut.

"Righ', well then, we'd better ge' to work," Hagrid rumbled, "We're workin' in th' vegetable patch today. I need yer to hoe the beans. I spoke to Professor Dumbledore, an' he's agreed yer should get paid a stipend fer yer work."

"Really? Brilliant!" Ron exclaimed, and followed Hagrid to the bean patch.

0oo0oo0

Their days took on a steady pattern. They would read the paper together over breakfast, split up to go to their respective assignments, meet again at dinner and then spend the afternoon flying around the castle grounds on their brooms, visiting with Hagrid, and - in Harry's case - studying the theory set by McGonagal. Evenings were spent in the common room, playing chess or cards or any other number of games that sat around the room. Ron would join Harry in bed each night and they would wake the next day spooned together and flushed with sleep. Beyond the touches they shared during the day - usually a finger hooking with a finger, and sometimes Ron would pull Harry into a hug - their relationship had progressed no further. Harry was still very skittish about being touched, and Ron knew better than to push him into an intimacy he wasn't ready for. That would kill their friendship for sure, and neither teen wanted that.

On the evening of Harry's sixteenth birthday, Ron sent Pigwidgeon to Gringotts with his holiday earnings and a request they be converted to Muggle money. Hedwig went as well, with a letter from Harry, asking the Goblins to make a withdrawal for him in Muggle currency. Both of them were looking forward to the day they would be allowed to go shopping in Muggle London, and Harry was planning a surprise for Ron.

Harry's sixteenth birthday started with a difference. He'd never been woken with a kiss before, but that was how Ron chose to start the day, dropping chaste kisses on Harry's face until he woke, then following with a very gentle kiss to the lips as well. He didn't try anything fancy; all too aware that Harry had described his first kisses with Cho Chang as 'wet'.

"Happy birthday, Harry," Ron smiled and relaxed when Harry's answering smile lit up his whole face. He craned his neck up and Ron obliged him with another warm press of lips before pulling back and squeezing the hand he held. Harry looked at their joined hands and smiled a little crookedly.

"We always seem to end up like this," he waved their hands in clarification and Ron raised his eyebrows.

"Does that bother you?" he asked curiously, and Harry shook his head, a slight flush creeping over his cheeks. He'd gained some colour during their broom flights over the last few weeks, though he wasn't as brown as Ron, who spent the majority of the day outside.

"It's nice," Harry said shyly and Ron nodded, kissing his friend on the cheek before letting go and rolling out of bed.

"It is," he agreed, "Kind of cosy."

Harry got up too, and they hurried through their morning baths, both teens shaving before getting dressed. Ron had put out the green shirt he liked Harry in so much, and Harry put it on without comment, pleased that his friend had chosen to tell him, albeit wordlessly, that he looked good in that. Neither boy was likely to win awards for their compliments and sentimental behaviour - they had worked hard to re-establish the easy friendship that they'd built for the last five years, and were not inclined to jeopardise that with atypical behaviours.

The usual owl arrived with the morning paper, and Ron paid it while Harry piled scrambled eggs and bacon onto slices of toast - food that could be eaten with one hand while they read the paper. They flicked through the main stories - Fudge was calling for support for some kind of reserve scheme to back up the Auror's and his main opponent was calling it an overt attempt to raise a private army - when an unfamiliar owl landed on the paper and hooted at Harry.

"What's this?" he asked Ron, and untied the cylinder that the owl had strapped on it's back. The brown wrapping clearly had his name on it, and Ron fished in the pockets of his robe for a moment before handing Harry an envelope. The owl took off without waiting for payment and Harry dropped the parcel on the table and opened the envelope.

There was a birthday card inside and Harry grinned at his friend.

"Is this my present, then?" he asked, pointing at the cylinder. Ron nodded, grinning back. Harry opened the parcel eagerly and stared at the glossy magazine.

"You've got a years subscription," Ron told his friend, "I thought you'd like it."

The 'World of Quidditch' magazine boasted a picture of the Peru Quidditch team posing with some school kids in various items of kit. Articles were also being touted on the front cover, including one about the Chuddley Cannons, and the latest controversy over the new guidelines for referees. Harry flipped through a few pages and then turned to grin at the now nervous friend beside him.

"It's brilliant," Harry told him, "Thanks, Ron. I'd never have thought of a present like this."

"Whew! I thought you were mad," Ron exaggerated his relief and Harry laughed, tucking the card inside the front cover, and the magazine inside his robes. They went back to the paper, and were discussing the latest Quidditch scores - the game was played year round - when Professor Sinistra left the staff table and wished Harry a happy birthday on her way out.

"Thank you!" Harry was rather startled, but managed a smile and wave for the Astronomy teacher. Professor McGonagal finished her morning cup of tea and came down to where they were sitting as well.

"Happy birthday, Mr Potter," she offered a rare smile, "Are you ready to take your test this morning?"

"I thought I'd have to wait until tomorrow," Harry glanced at his friend, and Ron shook his head.

"You're sixteen today - I only waited until the day after because mum and dad insisted," he told his friend, "Good luck, mate."

"Thanks," Harry nodded and followed the Transfiguration mistress out of the Great Hall. Ron grinned and folded the newspaper back up, sticking it inside his robes and getting up from the table. Hagrid stuck his head around the door and Ron waved him in.

"The coast is clear, Hagrid," he called. The plates disappeared from the tables, and Dobby trotted in behind Hagrid, beaming over his part in the birthday surprise. He waved a shy hello to Ron who smiled kindly and waved back. He knew that Harry was Dobby's favourite and didn't mind it too much. The elf was a little more relaxed with him, and they were co-conspirators when it came to taking care of Harry.

"He's off for his test, then?" Hagrid asked and Ron nodded, looking around at the Hall. The usual house banners and so on had been taken down, presumably for cleaning, making it seem almost barren.

"Righ' then," Hagrid rubbed his hands together, "We'll start with one o' these tables."

"Tables?" Ron asked, "I thought we were having the party here?"

"Nonsense," Hagrid shook his head, "There's perfectly good weather outside, an' it's a sight more cheerful to boot! We'll set up in the courtyard by the greenhouses - the one with the fountain. It gets good sun and there's a nice breeze coming off th' lake. Grab an end, Ron."

"Uh," Ron eyed the large and undoubtedly heavy table and pulled his wand out. He was grateful that the house tables were not all one piece but several pieces put end to end. Hagrid rolled his eyes, but shifted to pick up one end while Ron stood at the other. That meant that Ron would be walking backwards, but seeing as he wasn't actually lifting anything he didn't mind too much.

"Wingardium Leviosa!"

Ron's end of the table lifted up gently and he backed away, coaxing the table to follow him out the doors and along the passages. Ron could see that Dobby had elevated a couple of the benches and was walking along behind them. Ten minutes later they had the table set up, and Hagrid had wrestled one of the staff chairs out for Harry to sit on at the head of the table. The half giant would sit opposite him at the other end - not being built for sitting on benches.

Dobby conjured up some bunting - flowers and vines twisted together to hang on the stonework - and Ron got started on that while Hagrid hung a banner that read 'happy birthday!' and shot off little fireworks at random intervals while the letters changed colour. Dobby laid the table carefully, spreading a cream tablecloth over its glossy surface and then adding the place settings with fancy folded cream napkins. Ron was relieved to see that the house elf had resisted the temptation to plaster Harry's face over everything. His friend had told him about the Christmas decorations last year in the Room of Requirement when Ron found an ornament in the corner of their practice room.

"When is everyone arriving?" Ron asked as Hagrid came to help him finish up the last of the bunting.

"They'll be here at twelve. Yer mum and dad had to pick up Hermione first," he grunted, "There, tha' ought to hold it. The twins are coming along too, and Ginny o' course. I think yer brother Bill will be droppin' by as well. Professor McGonagal, and Remus Lupin will be here too."

"Dinner for twelve, then," Ron stood back and admired their work. The normally plain courtyard had been transformed into a welcoming setting for a birthday party. He turned and looked over at the table before smiling at Dobby, who was polishing crystal glasses.

"That looks smashing, Dobby," he complimented the elf, "Harry will be really pleased."

Dobby positively beamed at him, and seemed to swell a size in happiness. Ron reflected that it took so little to make the elf happy - rather like Harry - and made a mental note to try and do it more often. He checked his watch - the decorations and such had taken only two hours - and nodded to Hagrid as he went to meet Harry outside Professor McGonagal's study. There were two hours to fill before he had to lure Harry out to the courtyard, and Ron had planned to spend them in Gryffindor's common room, playing chess.

"How did you go?" he asked the moment Harry stepped outside. He didn't really need to ask, the grin on Harry's face was enough of a clue to the results.

"I passed it," his friend replied, "And we have the go ahead to spend tomorrow in Muggle London."

"Excellent," Ron rubbed his hands together, "Come on - we should go and see if the owls are back from Gringotts. You can tell me where we're going."

"Oh, no," Harry chuckled, "That's a surprise. I've got it all planned out."

They were climbing the stairs now, and Ron eyed his friend with disfavour.

"Am I going to hate this?" he asked and Harry chuckled, glancing at him sideways. Ron shook his head and sighed the way a man who is being much put upon does. This earned him another chuckle and he followed in Harry's wake happily. Harry hadn't really laughed since he'd woken in the hospital, and Ron was relieved to see some sign of his friends spirit returning.

They stepped in through the portrait hole and Pigwidgeon immediately started fluttering around their heads, hooting wildly. It was flying a bit slower than usual, due to the pocket sized leather pouch tied firmly to its legs with the Gringotts seal stamped onto it. Hedwig was sitting more sedately on the back of an armchair, and while Ron leapt about, trying to catch his maniacal owl, Harry went to relieve her of her own burden. Ron peered inside at the strange paper notes the Goblins had provided and then shrugged. His friend would doubtless be able to guide him through the day. He took both pouches up and dropped them on the dresser in his dorm, returning to find Harry still standing by the armchair, stroking Hedwig with a pensive look on his face.

"What's up, mate?" Ron put a hand on Harry's arm and his friend half shrugged, not really meeting Ron's eye. Ron waited patiently, rubbing his thumb along Harry's arm, until his friend shifted, turned to face him and very slowly and hesitantly put his hands on Ron's hips.

Ron smiled, his arms coming up easily to wrap around Harry's waist. Harry leaned hesitantly into the hug, his head sheltering nervously on Ron's shoulder. This was a big step, and Ron was pleased that Harry had reached out to him. He stood quietly, feeling the tension in Harry's body slowly disappear as the pain he associated with being touched failed to appear. Ron moved one hand, rubbing it over the small of Harry's back as his friend inched closer, seeking the warmth of Ron's body. His hands crept timidly around Ron's waist and clutched the back of his faded blue robe, plucking at the material nervously, then stilling. Harry heaved a big sigh and sagged a little, leaning into Ron, feeling his friend lean back, shifting their weight so they were in balance together and comfortable. The closeness and warmth was a little soporific and Harry let his eyes close, relaxing completely as Ron rubbed his back and held him.

"This is nice," Ron murmured, pleasure lacing his voice. He felt Harry nod and smiled into the unruly black hair pressed against his cheek. There was nothing erotic about this act for him - it was simple companionship and trust, being offered and shared equally between them. Harry trusted him not to hurt him, and Ron trusted Harry to know where his limits lay.

Ron estimated they'd stood there for ten minutes before Harry sighed and very slowly pulled back. Ron let him go, smiling when his friend glanced up at him. Harry flushed a little and cleared his throat, shuffling his feet.

"Chess?" Ron suggested as if they hadn't just taken a big step in trust together. Harry nodded, looking relieved that they weren't going to talk about the hug and Ron gave him his best grin, going to the table and setting up the chess set that they'd left out yesterday.

0oo0oo0

Harry couldn't describe - at least not without gibbering - how that hug with Ron had felt. He couldn't even explain adequately why he'd done it. He'd been standing with Hedwig, petting her lightly and thinking about how different this birthday was when Ron had returned with a grin on his face. Harry had felt such a strong rush of affection for his friend that he'd reached out without thinking, and then panicked. Thankfully, Ron had just stood there, holding him so lightly that a deep breath would have broken his grip. The simple gift of that hug was more significant to Harry than all the gifts anyone had ever given him in the last five years combined.

The chess was a welcome distraction, because Ron was a master at the game and Harry needed to concentrate fully on what he was doing if he didn't want to be slaughtered in the first five minutes. They were playing with Ron's ancient set, and the pieces had finally started to trust Harry a little, though they still shouted advice at him now and then. They played two games, one after the other, and at ten past twelve - just as Ron's rook was challenging Harry's king to surrender - his friend leapt up and grabbed for Harry's hand.

"We'll be late for dinner," Ron exclaimed, "Professor McGonagal will be after us!"

Harry let himself be pulled up and hurried along, glancing back as his king surrendered with a growl of defeat.

"You won again," he informed Ron, who shook his head, clucking under his breath.

"Harry, Harry, Harry, I _always_ win," Ron told him, mock pity in his voice. Harry glared at him, almost digging his heels into the floor to slow them down.

"You don't! I won last Christmas!" he exclaimed. Ron started bickering with him, a familiar routine from their friendship that Harry was so relieved to participate in that he didn't notice his friend was steering him away from the Great Hall. In fact he didn't notice anything out of the ordinary until he stepped out into bright sunlight and a chorus of voices shouted,

"Surprise!"

Harry jumped, the faces of the people before him dancing before his eyes before settling and letting him identify who was there. Professor McGonagal beamed at him and reached out to tug him further into the courtyard, perhaps seeing the wish to run from this wholly unexpected encounter in his face. Then Ron patted his back, chuckling under his breath, and the world steadied for Harry.

Remus Lupin was closest, looking as worn and faded as ever, but Harry didn't care. Lupin was the last of the Marauders, and his last link to Sirius and his parents. That he was here meant a lot to Harry, and he'd flung his arms around the werewolf before he even thought about what he was doing. Thin, yet strong arms wrapped around him, squeezing lightly, and Harry pulled back after a moment, beaming.

"It's good to see you," he told Remus sincerely, and got a laugh in reply.

"Thanks, Harry. You're looking well," Remus looked him over very carefully, "A bit thin though."

"You can talk," Harry retorted, but there was no heat in his voice and the werewolf grinned at him, shrugging. They both knew why Remus was looking so worn - there was no point in raking open old wounds. Harry stepped back and Hermione touched his arm.

"Happy birthday, Harry," she looked a little uncertain, and he reached out to hug her too, a quick squeeze around her waist before letting go again. He'd never been in the habit of reaching out and touching someone unless there were exceptional circumstances, and he was all too aware that the events of the summer had made him even more hesitant.

"Thanks Hermione," he knew the words were inadequate, but she smiled as if she understood. Ginny tapped her shoulder, and Hermione stepped aside for the red head, who promptly hugged Harry then let go, her eyes searching his face anxiously. He smiled and tugged on her hair, the way he'd seen her brothers do it, and she sniffled suspiciously, managing a watery smile before turning to examine the nearest decoration with a kind of fixed attention.

"Harry!" Fred stepped into her place, George at his shoulder. They grabbed his hands and shook them vigorously, while Harry laughed in astonishment at their robes.

"What are you wearing?" he exclaimed. The twins were both dressed in rather luridly patterned robes, with wildly clashing colours. They'd always been the most flamboyant people in Gryffindor, but now they were out of school, the twins seemed to have let that trait have full rein.

"You like?" George beamed, "We think they'll be the latest craze!"

"They're very…colourful," Harry replied politely. The twins didn't seem to mind though, and they laughed, stepping back for the next person. Harry was starting to feel a little overwhelmed, but he grinned up at Bill and shook his hand, taking a deep breath to steady himself. He didn't know Bill that well, but it meant a lot to him that Ron's family had come to see him on his birthday.

Hagrid stepped up next, hugging Harry so lightly that he barely felt it. The few times they'd met over the last week or so, Hagrid had been very diffident, treating Harry as if he might break. Harry didn't know if his friend had realised how intimidated Harry felt by Hagrid's size and strength at the moment, but he was grateful that the half giant didn't seem to take his nerves personally.

Mrs Weasley stepped up and engulfed him in a very motherly hug, kissing his cheek and patting his shoulder fondly when she stepped back. Her eyes were rather bright, and Harry knew he was red in the face and rather shaky to boot. Molly Weasley had been his only source of maternal affection, and he'd do anything in the world for her. Her husband stepped in, just as they were looking like coming over all emotional and he pulled Harry in for a brief hug too, surprising him no end.

Before he could really embarrass himself, Ron's stomach rumbled loudly, and Harry's echoed it. Everyone laughed, and the emotional atmosphere vanished. Harry found himself seated at the head of the table, with Hermione on one side and Remus on the other. Plates appeared in the middle of the table and everyone started passing them around.

"Did you take your Apparate test today?" Lupin asked, slipping a few extra spoonfuls of potato salad onto Harry's plate. He grinned at the man and nodded, slipping a couple of slices of bread and butter onto Lupin's plate in return.

"Yeah, I passed," he told him, and glanced at Hermione. She would turn sixteen just after they returned to school, and her parents wouldn't be able to teach her this skill because they were Muggle dentists, "How will you practice for your test?"

"Professor Flitwick is going to teach me…he does a class for the Muggle-born after school, and then someone from the Ministry comes down to test us all," she smiled, "I can't wait to get started. I've already read all the theory, of course, but it's not the same as practice."

Harry grinned at her. Typical Hermione. Knowing her she'd have memorised several books by now, and would probably be able to pass the test right now.

"I wonder how Neville will go," Ron said from beside Lupin, and they all shared a slightly sympathetic grin. Neville Longbottom's primary problem with performing magic was his total lack of confidence in himself. His grandmother had raised him on stories of how brilliant his parents were, and his aunts and uncles had compounded the problem by trying to teach him all sorts of different things at once.

"He'll get there," Harry stated confidently, "Look how quickly he improved in the DA. All he needed was some confidence."

Ron grinned around a mouthful and would have spoken if his mother hadn't spotted him and told him off.

Dinner passed very pleasantly. Hermione and Ginny told Harry about their holidays - Ginny was going home with Hermione tonight for a couple of weeks - and Fred and George filled Harry in on the latest news from their joke shop. From their accounts it was doing quite well - they were able to afford an assistant now, who was minding the shop while they were out.

When the last of the food had disappeared, and the plates and cutlery as well, Hagrid stood up, his crystal glass held a little gingerly in one hand.

"I'd just like ter propose a toast," he waited until everyone had raised their own glasses, "Ter Harry. Hope yer birthday is a happy one, and many more to come."

"To Harry," the others chorused, and Harry flushed, sipping nervously at his drink. Hagrid sat down again and a small pile of parcels appeared on the table in front of Harry. He jumped badly, and then mopped hurriedly at the spilled pumpkin juice. Hermione joined her napkin with his and they managed to contain the mess.

"Well go on then," Ron urged impatiently when Harry put the balled up napkin to one side and hesitated, "Let's have a look!"

0oo0oo0

Harry sat on his bed and looked at his gifts. Remus had given him a wallet made from dragon hide. There was a photo of himself, Sirius and James in it, the three Marauders, taken by the fourth, Peter Pettigrew. Lupin had murmured something about it being a joint present from himself and Sirius, and Harry had smiled and thanked his father's friend quietly. George and Fred's present had distracted everyone by partially exploding at that point, and Mrs Weasley had told the twins off while Harry and Ron put out the banner Hagrid had hung up, which was smouldering slightly from some stray sparks. The slightly singed Skivers Snackbox smelled a bit smoky, but George had assured Harry that the present would still work. Hermione had given him a custom made bag to store his Firebolt in, made from a dark brown material that tingled slightly under Harry's fingers when he'd touched it. Hermione had explained that she'd had the store put several anti-hex charms on it, and he'd thanked her with a hug. Ron had received a similar bag for his birthday, in deep red.

Ginny and Bill had gone in together to buy Harry several manuals of defensive spells and potions. Ron had promptly annexed one to flip through, while Hermione browsed another. Their time in the DA - an underground group that had practiced defensive spells and duelling - had made all three of them interested in learning more than the curriculum provided. Harry spared a thought to wonder who would be teaching Defence Against the Dart Arts this coming school year, and then put the books aside.

Hagrid had given him a very thick pair of gloves, made from a hide that Harry couldn't identify. They were a strangely pale violet, and Harry wondered what they were studying in Care of Magical Creatures that he would need such thick gloves. Mrs Weasley's gift had also been spell books - 'Magical Recipes for Beginners', 'Hearty Meals With a Wave of the Wand', 'Better Household Management Through Magic', and 'Every Everyday Spell and Potion You'll Ever Need'.

"I think mum's giving you a hint, Harry," Fred had commented to laughter at that point. Harry had laughed too, but he'd given Mrs Weasley an extra smile. She was trying to ensure that he would be able to take care of himself in the future.

It was Mr Weasley's gift that had brought unexpected tears to Harry's eyes. It had been a dark green toiletry bag, containing a straight razor, strop, shaving brush and soap. Ron's words had come back to him with a rush, and Harry had to control himself very hard. Ron had seemed to understand this, because he distracted everyone by asking Hagrid where he'd gotten his gift.

"Still gloating over the loot, huh?" Ron asked from the doorway, carrying two mugs of steaming tea. Dobby was behind him with a tray of food, and Harry got up to give the elf the piece of birthday cake he'd saved especially. Dobby thanked him profusely, and eventually left the two of them alone. There was a plate of sandwiches on the tray, and a couple of pieces of fruit for afters. Ron sat opposite Harry while they ate, then took the tray away again. Harry cleared the presents off the bed, putting his broom in the bag, and transferring the money sent from Gringotts to his new wallet. He flicked through one of the cookbooks and then settled down with 'Every Everyday Spell and Potion You'll Ever Need', flipping through the sections of the book slowly. He looked up when Ron returned and put the book aside, getting up and walking to meet his friend.

He reached out a little hesitantly, hating that he felt so afraid of this simple act, knowing that Ron would never deliberately hurt him, had never hit him, but still unable to overcome the instinct that said solitude was best. Ron's arms circled him in a light hold that he could easily break and Harry sighed. He leaned forward again, putting his head on Ron's shoulder and sighing when his friend's hands pulled him slowly closer.

"Thank you for my party," Harry said quietly. Ron chuckled and rubbed the small of his back again. Warmth spread through Harry's body, relaxing his muscles, and soothing his nerves. He forced one hand to unclench from Ron's robes and move up to his friends shoulder where the fingers kneaded muscle without any direction from him. This small intimacy, initiated while they were both awake, felt like a huge step to the boy who'd never been touched often, or even with love.

"I'm not the one who organised it," Ron admitted, "I was just in charge of getting you there on time."

Harry rubbed his cheek on the shoulder he was hiding in and Ron shushed under his breath.

"Your dad gave me a shaving kit," Harry's voice was very small, and Ron tightened his grip. Harry knew that he'd never be able to explain how significant this gift felt to him. The Weasley's had always been very kind to him, and generous about including him in their holidays, but Harry had never dared imagine that they might really consider him a part of the family - Molly's words to Sirius aside.

Ron took a deep breath, sighing softly, the air tickling through Harry's hair and he smiled in the comforting dark. Ron was family now. That was one hell of a wicked birthday present.

0oo0oo0

It felt like a slap in the face to be confronted the next morning with the clothes that he'd been wearing the day he'd been taken to St Mungo's. Someone had cleaned and repaired them, obviously, but still…

They were the only Muggle clothes that he had, and Harry swallowed hard, glad that Ron was still in the bathroom and not witnessing this particular little freak out. His hands shook as he touched the faded, oversized, ragged cloth on the bed, then he sighed and pulled the items on one at a time, doing it automatically, trying not to think about it. He did up his trainers and tucked his wand out of sight. His new wallet went into a pocket as well, and Harry took a book down to the common room to read until Ron was ready to go down to breakfast.

"Bloody hell, Harry," Ron exploded, and Harry sighed. His friend looked horrified at the sight of Dudley's old clothes, but pulled himself together. Harry guessed his thoughts were visible on his face because Ron sighed and shook his head.

"The minute we've got something to replace those things with they're going in the bin," Ron vowed. Harry felt his mood improve and Ron pulled him out of the armchair where he'd been brooding. Neither teen had much appetite, and they left breakfast early, walking quietly down to the town of Hogsmeade. Ron Apparated first, appearing in the cluttered walled courtyard behind the Leaky Cauldron. Harry Disapparated beside him, and they grinned at each other - spirits lifting for the first time.

"Come on," Harry felt a bit better, remembering where they were going to spend the day, and why. When he'd been eight years old it had become fashionable at school for the boys to wear a certain type of jacket, only available from one place in London. Dudley had thrown his biggest tantrum to date, and Aunt Petunia had been forced to take Harry with them the weekend they went to find Dudley's jacket. The eight-year-old Harry had been fascinated by the wide variety of people and styles of dress all gathered in one spot in a way he hadn't seen again until his first visit to Diagon Alley. Ron - Muggle lover that he was - would love this place, and Harry would love being able to wander at his own will through the fascinating streets and alleyways.

"Where are we going?" Ron asked as they finally managed to get a seat on the tube. Up until that point he'd been too interested in the ticket machines, escalators, various posters and the tunnels that the tube trains rushed through, commenting non-stop to Harry under his breath. The dark haired teen had been hard pressed to answer all the questions Ron had fired at him.

"Camden Town," Harry pointed to the correct station and Ron looked over the map of the Northern Line for a moment, fascinated by the way it split and looped around. Then he looked back at his friend and bounced his eyebrows at him.

"And what's there?" Ron pressed. Harry shrugged with feigned nonchalance.

"A couple of markets," he replied in an off hand tone. Ron fixed him with a considering look - too experienced with Fred and George's pranks to be taken in by that. He didn't say anything though, just settled back to tick off the stations as they passed, looking around at their fellow passengers. Harry led the way out of the station and hooked Ron's elbow, pulling him to stand against the station wall for a moment.

"Bloody hell! A _couple_ of markets?" Ron gawked and Harry laughed. There were even more people than Harry remembered, but he didn't care. He felt like just being one of the throng after the intense scrutiny of yesterday. He glanced around and spotted a likely place to start looking. He was going to have to rebuild his entire wardrobe for all the seasons, so the bargain basement store was the perfect place to start. They walked past the more flashy shirts and formal trousers to the jeans and t-shirts. There were quite a few displays marked 'two for the price of one' or 'three for £12', and Harry started rummaging there. Ron watched him for a moment and then started helping, picking out shirts in a similar vein to the ones that Harry had started with - namely plain solid colours that weren't too bright. Once they both had an armful, Harry went to try on a pair of jeans for size, coupling it with a dull red t-shirt. The dark blue jeans fit well, but he thought the t-shirt was a bit tight, and opened the door for Ron's opinion. Harry had never been clothes shopping before, and was a little nervous about the whole process.

"Is the shirt too tight?" he asked, opening the door. He knew Ron was there because his friend had just found a pair of cargo pants and was laughing at all the pockets. Ron gaped at him, mouth open, and Harry shifted irritably.

"Come on, Ron," he frowned and Ron shook his head, sense coming back into the bright blue eyes.

"No, it's fine, Harry."

Ron's voice was oddly husky and Harry looked at him doubtfully for a moment before shrugging. His friend wouldn't lie to him, so whatever was bugging him wasn't the clothes. He took the cargo pants that Ron was holding out wordlessly and closed the door again, trying them on for fit before changing back into Dudley's clothes and stepping out of the changing room.

"Ok, let's pay for this stuff," Harry glanced over at what Ron was holding, and led the way to the register. They dumped their selection on the counter and the guy behind the till went into a whirl of motion, folding clothes and totalling up the purchase as he went. Harry paid over a fairly small amount of money for the pile and started picking up the bags.

"Wait," Ron grabbed his wrist. He watched as his friend dug through the bags to come up with the original jeans and shirt that Harry had tried on.

"Look, my friend here needs to change. You wouldn't mind if he went back there again and…" Ron fixed the multiply pierced young man with his best wide eyed look. Harry flushed a little at the comprehending look he got and the clerk grinned.

"I will even bin those for you!" the young man laughed, "Go get changed."

He cut the tags off and Harry stumbled back to the changing room to change. He rifled the pockets of Dudley's jeans to ensure he hadn't left anything behind and then took the offending items back out the front, where the clerk made a show of dumping them into the bin under his counter. Ron laughed, and Harry grinned, picking up his bags and climbing up out of the basement, feeling lighter than he had for a long time.

They walked up and down the markets, browsing through the stalls, and Harry found a wide range of clothes that suited his rather vague wants, and met with Ron's easy standards as well. Ron spent most of the time watching the punks and freaks and norms that were thronging through the market places too.

Ron bought them lunch, spending an hour and a half among the food stalls, sampling everything and discovering a fondness for lamb curries and sweet and sour pork. Harry wandered along with him, happy to share portions and sample new things. Once Ron had his fill they stopped by a few shoe stores, where Ron bought a pair of purple glitter Doc Marten boots that laced to his knees, and Harry bought a plain pair of black ankle length boots. They wandered through the antique stalls, then made the first 'find' of the day. In a back alley there were several stalls selling crystals, incense and rune stones. Ron examined a set of Tarot cards curiously, muttering to Harry that they didn't have the correct aura to be any use, which had Harry in stitches. One stall, however was selling 'alternate' clothing, and Ron discovered a rack of cloaks.

They were different to the Wizard style cloaks, in that there were no sleeves, plackets or cuffs, but that didn't matter when Ron pulled out two rather striking examples. The first was a smoky blue colour, dark and shot through with copper threads. He flung it around his shoulders with the practiced twist of the wrist that all Witches and Wizards came to have and Harry's breath caught at the sight. The hooded garment fell into perfect folds, emphasising Ron's lean height and broad shoulders. Ron tied it closed and rubbed his fingers over it, appreciating the copper lining and the heavy brocade of the outer material.

He grinned at Harry and flung the second cloak around his friend, a dusty green colour that was pale green at the top and darkened to black at the hem. They were unaware of the fascinated eye of the stallholder as they admired each other in the cloaks. The majority of Wizards loved unusual clothing and styles, and Harry could almost guarantee that there wouldn't be anything like this in Diagon Alley.

"It would be useless for flying," Harry pointed out under his breath, rubbing his fingers over Ron's arm, appreciating the texture of the material. His own cloak felt incredibly soft, and in the midday heat he was rapidly overheating, a good indication that the cloak would provide some warmth in winter.

"Doesn't matter," Ron replied, "Mum always has a few old clasps that we could sew on to replace these strings. You are not leaving here without that cloak."

"Same to you," Harry challenged and Ron grinned, digging out his money. The stall owner wrapped the cloaks for them, and they strolled away, pleased with themselves.

The second 'find' of the day was just around the corner from there. Wizards loved books - they didn't have the diversions of television and movies that Muggles preferred - and the Weasley's home had a bookcase in just about every room. The bookstalls were extensive and Ron had never really had a chance to look over Muggle fiction.

Harry had to sit down he was laughing so hard, when Ron started critiquing the fantasy novels on offer - refuting the errors and making fun of the pictures on the cover. Ron had to help him back up and check that Harry had all the bags he'd been carrying, as Harry was laughing much too hard to make sense. The science fiction was much more to Ron's liking, and he picked up half a dozen books there before finding the murder/mystery/crime section. As Harry was also interested in these books they came away with an astonishing number of books, their wallets empty.

Rather than taking the tube back with all their bags and parcels they found a public toilet and went in. After a quick check to see that the stalls were empty, they Apparated to Hogsmeade then used the levitation charm to get the packages back to Hogwarts.

0oo0oo0

Dobby appeared and took all the clothes away to be washed and returned the next day, and Ron had sent a message to his mother about the cloak clasps. When he returned, Harry was on the couch with a book, and Ron joined him, sitting close and taking his free hand. They had inched closer and closer over the next few hours until they were positively cuddling each other warmly, and their tangled fingers were talking to each other, directing their attention to each others books and interesting passages.

Over breakfast the next day they noticed that Professor McGonagal had left Hogwarts and Professors Flitwick and Sprout had arrived. They waved from the teachers' table, and Ron had offered them a cheerful smile while Harry continued to the table. There was a note next to their plates and Ron groaned when he read it.

"And the day started so well," he sighed, crumpling the note up and sticking it in his pocket. Mr Filch had chores for them to do inside the castle. Mr Filch was not known for his fondness for students and whatever he had in mind was sure to be tedious, difficult and possibly disgusting.

"Yeah, it did," Harry agreed, a very soft look in his eyes. Ron had kissed him awake again, and Harry had felt secure enough to put his arms around his bedmate, holding Ron close. Ron sighed and sat down, fishing for the knuts to pay the owl while Harry made a space for the paper, piling their plates in the middle of the table and slathering jam over a couple of pieces of toast.

Dumbledore was in the paper this morning, urging the Wizard world not to become complacent about their safety. They read the article carefully, flipped through the rest of the paper and noted that Rita Skeeter had published an article about the state of Muggle relations, raising the issue that Witches and Wizards born to Muggle families should be taken into the Wizarding community as soon as they were identified to ensure they were protected. Harry felt a little sick at that and glanced bleakly at Ron. Fingers squeezed his and he sighed, turning the page and concentrating fiercely on the latest Quidditch news while Ron fumed beside him.

Ron took a deep breath as they walked towards Filch's office. He'd have to hope that the caretaker had something sufficiently diverting for them to do, so Harry wouldn't brood. Mrs Norris was sitting outside the door, watching them through narrow red eyes. She had been a particular nuisance last year, patrolling the corridors and reporting to Filch almost constantly. The DA had all been in favour of jinxing her, but Harry had pointed out that Filch would be in an even worse mood if that happened, and had suggested they just say hello as they pass her. It had annoyed Filch no end to have students suddenly speaking to his cat, and the DA had been appeased.

"Hello Mrs Norris," Harry said out of habit, and knocked on the caretaker's door. Filch opened it and scowled out at them. He wore a very dirty smock and his lank hair seemed filthier than ever.

"Yer to polish the armour on the second floor," he said without preamble, "The cloths and polish are already there. Bring them back here when yer finished."

The door slammed shut and Harry gave Ron a little grin. The redhead merely rolled his eyes and followed his friend away from the caretaker's office.

"He was in fine form," Ron commented as they headed for the second floor. The main corridors there were lined with various suits of armour, which guarded the library, the hospital wing, several storage cupboards and a couple of classrooms.

There was a pile of rags and several bottles of polish sitting in the middle of the corridor, and Ron whipped his wand out. He picked up a cloth and a bottle and placed them at the feet of the first suit.

"Mobilus domesticus," he said firmly. The polish tipped itself onto the cloth and the cloth started polishing. Harry grinned and picked out a cloth and bottle himself. He added its efforts to the suit that Ron's cloth was already polishing, then grabbed a second.

"Uh, this will only work on one at a time," Ron warned and Harry shrugged. He moved to the suit opposite and started cleaning by hand, glancing back at his friend.

"This will go quicker if we work as well," he suggested. Ron heaved a sigh, but grabbed a cloth and went to help, keeping an eye on the animated cloths opposite them.

They soon established a routine, working in perfect rhythm to polish the suits comprehensively, before checking on the animated cloths and then moving to the next one. Ron found that their heads were close together when they worked on the legs of a suit and Harry would shoot him little glances, leaning in towards him and then backing off again. Ron thought his friend was working up to something, and was delighted three suits later when Harry leaned in and kissed him very briefly, before flushing bright red and rubbing at a knee guard so energetically the suit complained.

Ten suits later the kisses were longer and Harry had stopped blushing, lingering with his forehead against Ron's instead. Ron was finding it increasingly difficult to crouch down to get to the feet of the suits, and from Harry's discreet squirms the other teen was having the same problem.

They finished in time for a late dinner, and then returned to the Gryffindor dorms. They grabbed a book each and went down to the kitchens to beg for some afternoon tea and a blanket. Harry led Ron to the secluded spot he'd found at the end of last term and they spread the blanket out before sprawling out on it. Ron lay on his back, his head propped on a fold of blanket, while Harry stretched out on his stomach.

Ten minutes later the books were cast aside in favour of kissing. Ron had his hand in the small of Harry's back again, rubbing in circles, liking the way Harry melted at the touch. Harry had tucked his fingers up inside Ron's t-shirt, stroking warm skin lightly as they kissed and kissed.

0oo0oo0

The morning paper arrived as usual, followed by two official looking owls with an envelope each for them.

"Our OWL results," Harry realised, staring at Ron, "I'd forgotten!"

Ron went a little pale and then accepted the envelope from the bird. He could remember the row when the twins' results arrived, and was at least grateful he'd be able to open this in private. Harry was staring at the envelope in his own hand, probably remembering the events that had been occurring all during their OWL testing. Ron took a deep breath and opened the envelope, Harry matching him move for move as they pulled the folded parchment out and opened it.

OWL results for:Ronald Weasley

Defence Against the Dark ArtsO

PotionsO

TransfigurationE

HerbologyE

AstronomyA

CharmsO

Care of Magical CreaturesO

DivinationA

History of MagicA

O - OutstandingA - Acceptable

E - Exceeds ExpectationsP - Poor

D - Dreadful

"I got four O's!" Ron blurted, "Harry! Look!"

He shoved the parchment at Harry, who took it and read it through, grinning broadly at his friend. Neither one of them was half as clever as Hermione, who had probably got O's in everything, but nor were they dunces. Ron leaned against the table, relieved that he'd be able to at least send a good report to his mother, who was doubtlessly waiting at home impatiently.

"Congratulations, Ron!" Harry wrapped an arm around his shoulders and squeezed without second thought, the contact as easy and natural as one of Ron's brothers would have. Ron grinned as he was jostled and then sat up.

"Hang on! What did you get?" he demanded and snatched Harry's letter off the table. They were making rather a lot of noise, but the teachers at the staff table didn't mind - if Ron or Harry had looked up they'd have seen some very indulgent looks headed their way.

OWL results for:Harry Potter

Defence Against the Dark ArtsO

PotionsO

TransfigurationE

HerbologyE

AstronomyE

CharmsO

Care of Magical CreaturesO

DivinationE

History of MagicA

O - OutstandingA - Acceptable

E - Exceeds ExpectationsP - Poor

D - Dreadful

"Congratulations," Ron beamed at his friend, and then frowned, "How did you get an E in Divination?"

Harry shook his head rather helplessly. He'd done well on the theory - that hadn't been too hard to pick up at all - and the Tarot readings were easy to accomplish. The crystal ball was much harder, and he hadn't seen anything in the final test that had been worth mentioning, and he'd totally misread the examiners palm at first, before correcting himself and trying again.

"Come on," Ron leapt up, "We'll send Pigwidgeon to mum with the results, and Hedwig to Honeydukes so we can celebrate!"

"Boys! Boys!" Flitwick called as Harry got up, laughing a little at his friends antics. They calmed down a bit and hurried over to the staff table.

"Good morning, Professor Flitwick," Ron grinned, "Do you think we can have a day off from helping Mr Filch? We got some very good results!"

"Of course, Mr Weasley," Flitwick beamed at them both, "May I see your results?"

They handed the slips of paper over, knowing that the school would get a full recounting of their marks from the Ministry anyway. Flitwick read them over and his smile got impossibly bigger.

"Excellent work boys! And 'Outstanding' for Charms! I am pleased! If you can be ready after dinner, Mr Potter, I will take you to Diagon Alley to purchase your school things for this year!" Flitwick handed the parchments back.

"Can Ron come too, Professor?" Harry asked, "We'll behave!"

Ron felt a warm glow at that. They'd only be apart for a few hours, but that was a rare thing nowadays. Flitwick's smile became very kind and he gave permission for Ron to come along too.

"Your mother will be purchasing your things, Mr Weasley, but you are welcome to come along," Flitwick dismissed them to the owlry, and Ron grabbed Harry's hand as they ran up the steps.

0oo0oo0

Ron slammed to a stop just inside the dorm door. Harry was standing by their bed - the bed that Ron would have to leave tonight because Dean, Seamus and Neville would be there, and they couldn't sleep together in front of the others. His partner - and Ron knew that they would be together for the rest of their lives, just like he knew they needed air to breathe and gravity to stay on the ground - was wearing the black school robes over his school uniform, the red and gold Gryffindor tie and house badge the only splashes of colour. Harry was taller than he had been last year, and had a bit of colour in his face. He was slender, though Ron knew all too well the strength and warmth of the body hidden beneath the uniform.

They had gone beyond the 'friendly kissing' stage - by accident at first, and then eagerly, hands searching out heat and hardness, bodies rubbing together sensuously. Only last night, Ron had tasted Harry for the first time, and Harry had returned the gift rather unexpectedly this morning in the shower - hence Ron's lateness now. Professor Dumbledore was waiting in his office for them with a port key to take them to the Hogwarts Express. As a Prefect, Ron's absence would be very noticeable, and Harry was too high profile among the student body to just not arrive at school the usual way - flying cars not withstanding.

Ron shrugged his robes on quickly, turning away to conceal the jealousy he was feeling. After having Harry to himself for the summer, and enjoying the freedom that came with their solitude, Ron was not looking forward to sharing his partner with other people - even their friends. When he had straightened his robe, Ron turned to tell Harry he was ready, only to bump into his partner. Harry slipped his arms around Ron and leaned into him, his head resting naturally on Ron's shoulder. Ron sighed and returned the hug, turning his head to whisper in Harry's ear,

"You're stuck with me Potter, no getting out of it now," Ron promised and Harry gave him a scorching kiss, pulling back only when they were both very breathless.

"Come on, Dumbledore's waiting," Harry peeled himself lose and Ron straightened his robes once more before following his partner out, their fingers tangled together and hidden in the folds of their robes.

0oo0oo0


	3. 1st term, sixth year

****

Further warnings: I will eventually get to the importance of the finger talk. Until then... Relax. Go with the flow. Pull up a broomstick. Whatever.

****

Sympathetic Magic: Part Two - First Term, Sixth Year

The portkey released them and Harry took a deep breath, letting go of the hanky that Ron had given Dumbledore to transform. Ron shoved the piece of material back into his pocket and both teens jumped when the train Guard spoke from behind them.

"Well don't just stand there, lads," the Guard was a rather wizened, painfully thin man with crooked teeth and a set of brilliant green robes, "There's no one on the platform yet, hop down and find a carriage before you're caught."

"Yes, sir," Harry moved quickly for the door, Ron close on his heels. They jumped down onto the platform, and Harry grinned at the familiar sight. Though it was deserted, this was usually his second real sight of the Wizarding world, and a friendly one at that. Ron strolled along the carriages and chose the second one from the engine, strolling into the first compartment and settling on one of the seats.

"Mum said that she'd be here early with Ginny, so we might as well reserve a decent carriage now," he called and Harry strolled along the platform to join him. They'd both tucked a Muggle book into their robes to while the time away, not wanting to get caught doing anything else. Ron had told Harry that he wasn't ready to tell anyone about their new relationship, and Harry had been relieved. He knew that the moment Mrs Weasley discovered what they were doing she'd turn her back on Harry forever. He knew that Muggles often disowned their children when they revealed their sexuality, and didn't want to take the risk that Ron would lose his family over their relationship. One of them should have a family who loved him, and in Harry's mind, Ron was elected.

"Hey, Harry, what is this guy on about?" Ron interrupted Harry's thoughts, and he turned to look at the book Ron was reading. 'The Postman' was not their usual theme of book, but Harry had found it in Flourish and Blotts amongst a bundle of second hand books and found it fairly interesting.

"What?" Harry prompted, shaking free from his thoughts, and Ron pointed out the first chapter. Harry spent a few minutes explaining about nuclear weapons and America, and then settled back to his own book. They were sitting opposite each other, and Harry had a good view of the barrier. The sound of a trolley had him looking up and he shut the book, grinning.

"Your mum's here, Ron," he warned and Ron shut his book, shoving it into a pocket as he stood up and stuck his head out the window.

"Mum! Ginny!" he waved, then opened the door and went out to meet them. Harry marked his place and followed slowly, giving Ron time to speak to his mother in private. Ginny appeared in the corridor and Harry pointed out their compartment.

"Hello, Harry," Ginny smiled warmly, "Mum wants to see you, you'd better get out there."

"Sure," Harry nodded, speeding up a little. He got to the door just as Ron leapt inside, shouting for him. Harry jumped back, banging into the wall, his eyes wide. For a moment the worst case scenario was playing through his head - danger, death and pain danced at the edges of his vision for a sickening moment before his partner dispelled them with an easy gesture. Ron reached out for him, squeezing his arm in apology.

"Sorry, mate," he shook his head, "Mum wants you."

The slight roll of his eyes and crooked grin reassured Harry when nothing else would have, and he shook his head, heading for the door again.

"Well if you hadn't knocked me down," he mock grumbled over his shoulder and grinned at Ron's rude, low voiced response. He was still smiling when he reached the platform, and Molly Weasley enveloped him in a hug.

"Oh Harry, dear, you look much better," she let him go and looked him over carefully, "And you've grown! You're almost taller than me, now!"

Harry had discovered that too, and was a little embarrassed about it. Mrs Weasley was always a little larger than life to him. He felt himself blush, and wanted to die of embarrassment that he was blushing, which just made things worse.

"Yes Mrs Weasley," he said sheepishly in the end and she clucked her tongue, shaking her head. The green beret perched on her hair slipped a little and she reached up with a frown to put it right. Harry felt a rush of affection for the busy, kind-hearted woman.

"I think that by now you can call me Aunt Molly at least," she scolded. Harry blushed again and nodded.

"Thank you Aunt Molly," he mumbled and she patted his shoulder in approval. Ron was grinning fit to burst next to them and Harry made a mental note to tell him off at a later date. Molly seemed to spot this too, and she turned her attention to her youngest son.

"What are you grinning for, Ronald Weasley? Here, help Harry take this hamper to your compartment," she gestured to the hamper that still sat on the trolley they'd used for Ginny's trunks, and Ron pulled his wand out.

"I'll do it," Harry interrupted, "You need to get your books and things organised."

"Ok," Ron put his wand away again and Mrs Weasley started telling him about what she'd bought for him and where it was. Ginny welcomed the hamper with a grin and dug out a couple of scones, handing the first two to Harry and biting into a third. He headed back out to Ron, handing his partner the second scone and joining him in telling Mrs Weasley an edited version of their holidays.

Neville Longbottom appeared through the barrier with his grandmother, and Ron went to tell him which compartment they were in. Harry was grateful that he'd spend the journey with friends, as Hermione and Ron were expected to help patrol the train during the trip. The prefects sat in their own compartment just behind the engine, and last year Harry had spent the trip in a very low mood.

"Harry, are you sure you're all right?" Mrs Weasley asked quietly, "I know that this summer has been hard for you…"

"I'm fine, Aunt Molly," Harry smiled, "Really I am. The time at Hogwarts was very peaceful, and now I'm my own man. I was going to be leaving the Dursley's at the end of next year anyway."

"Well I hope you know that your Uncle Arthur and I expect you to come to the Burrow for holidays. You'll always be welcome under our roof. And, Harry, no one knows about… what happened. We managed to keep it out of the press, though that Rita Skeeter woman has been stirring up all sorts of bad feeling with her articles," Molly frowned in distaste and Harry sighed, nodding.

"Ron and I have been following the stories," he frowned, "But there's not much we can do. All of the Muggle born Witches and Wizards I know are happy with their families. You can't judge by the Dursley's - there was something wrong with them."

At least, that was what Harry was telling himself. It hadn't been his fault they'd hated him - he hadn't chosen to be a Wizard, and all things being equal he'd rather have his parents alive, than live with that Muggle family. He couldn't change the past, but he could change how it controlled him.

"Hello Harry!" Neville came up to them, "Look at the wand Gran bought me!"

0oo0oo0

Dean and Seamus ended up in the compartment with Neville, Ginny and Harry. Ron and Hermione were in and out at odd times, Ron complaining that this year's group of first years were 'pathetically wet'.

"There's one girl, she keeps following me up and down the corridors," Ron continued, shoving Harry over a bit so he could sit down, "Budge over, Harry. Did someone hit your arse with a swelling hex?"

"I'll hex you," Harry threatened, laughing with the others. Hermione seemed a little quieter than usual, as did Dean. Ginny kept shooting them worried looks, and Neville was biting his lip, something very obviously on his mind. From the glances Ginny shot his way, Harry could guess what was on Hermione's mind.

"Did you see the articles Rita Skeeter's been publishing?" Harry asked Seamus, "She's trying to get people interested in signing a petition to take the Muggle-born away from their parents for their own protection."

Hermione shot him an anxious look and Dean shifted uncomfortably, telling Harry he was on the right track. Seamus - who had been a little uncomfortable with Harry since his outburst at the beginning of their fifth year - seemed relieved to have something easy to talk about.

"Yeah I saw it," he shook his head, "Mum thinks it's ridiculous. As soon as they tried it the Muggle world would be after us, it would be like the Middle Ages Witch Trials all over again."

"But what if their parents are hurting them for being… well… different?" Hermione asked bluntly, and Seamus and Neville gaped at her in horror. Ron shook his head, shifting next to Harry but not interfering. They both could see what Seamus and Neville were thinking, even if Hermione couldn't.

"Your parents hurt you?" Neville squeaked and Hermione flushed angrily, shaking her head. She resolutely kept her eyes on Neville, and Harry sighed. Hermione was over thinking the situation again. He'd have to talk to her, reassure her that he was fine.

"Of course not! Mum and Dad might not understand about the Wizarding world, but they'd never hurt me for being a Witch!" she snapped, "But… oh!"

Hermione got up and stormed out. Ron shifted beside Harry again, staring at the floor. He sighed and got up, heading for the door.

"I'll talk to her," he said to no one in particular, and Harry grinned. Trust Ron to jump in where angels feared to tread.

"Good luck. If you don't come back can I have your Chuddley Cannons collection?" he called after his friend and got a rude gesture in reply. Harry broke out a pack of cards for exploding snap, and dealt everyone in.

"Dean? You ok?" Ginny asked and Dean nodded, putting a card down carefully.

"I got a subscription to the Daily Prophet these hols. I haven't shown the articles to Mum, but what if this Skeeter skag gets her way? I'd give up wizardry before I gave up my parents."

"She won't get anywhere. Seamus is right, the Muggle world would hunt every last Wizard and Witch down before they let them take away their children," Neville replied, and Harry nodded.

"Besides, with Tom Riddle still on the loose, the Ministry has better things to do than set up housing for Muggle-born Wizards," he agreed.

"Who?" Dean looked up, curious. Ginny had jumped a little at the name, but Harry and Ron had got into the habit of calling Voldemort by his Muggle name over the summer - Harry was tired of watching Ron flinch every time he heard the V-word.

"Tom Riddle - You Know Who. It's his Muggle name from when he went to Hogwarts," Harry explained casually, laying his card down carefully. The deck was beginning to fizz slightly, and someone was about to get a face full of cards.

"Where the bloody hell did you hear that?" Seamus asked incredulously while Neville giggled. Ginny began to smile, a slow beautiful expression that lit up the whole compartment and had Neville gazing at her admiringly. Harry winked at her discreetly, and she ducked her head, swallowing a giggle. The Weasley family - with the possible exception of Percy - loved a good joke.

"He was a Slytherin - he's still on the house register. Obviously he wasn't a Dark Lord back then, but…" Harry shrugged, "Why should we call him Lord anything? He's the one who made up the name that everyone is too scared to say, so why use it? Tom Riddle was good enough for school, and we're at school…"

"You're mad," Dean said, but there was a faintly admiring tone to his voice. He laid down the next card and the deck exploded. It broke the tension and the threat of the Dark Lord slipped away.

Ron and Hermione had rejoined them by the time the train pulled into Hogsmeade Station and the compartment was a fair mess by then. Seamus and Dean seemed to have misplaced everything they'd ever owned, and Neville was his usual forgetful self.

"Hey Harry," Seamus began for the tenth time at least, looking for yet another lost item, "Have you seen my copy of 'International Quidditch'?"

"Why do you keep asking Harry if he's seen your stuff?" Ginny asked in exasperation and Summoned the magazine from underneath the seat. Seamus took it with mumbled thanks, and then grinned over at his housemate.

"Because Mr Neat and Tidy over there has usually put whatever I've lost away," Seamus replied, and Harry frowned at him. Seamus was a very untidy dorm mate, and Harry had retrieved the other boy's possessions from under his bed, and even out of his drawers more than once. There was some truth to the remark.

"I'm not that bad," he said uneasily and helped Hermione with Crookshanks. Neville and Dean were chuckling too now. It was a bit of a joke among the dorm mates that they never needed a house elf to clean their room for them because they had Harry.

"You are mate - you can't go by a stack of books without straightening them," Dean informed him, and Ron distracted them by nudging the hamper Mrs Weasley had packed off the seat. Harry gave him a grateful look as they all bent to pick up the bits and pieces. This conversation was going in a direction that Harry would rather avoid if at all possible.

"It's true," Neville was not to be distracted, however, "You never leave anything lying around."

"It's not a bad thing, Harry," Ron hastened to assure him. Harry was feeling cold and small - as if he was going back to the Dursley's tomorrow. What was wrong with being tidy? Tidiness was safe. Tidiness let you eat regularly and kept the hard hands and fists away.

"Harry?" Seamus asked, frowning. Harry wondered what his face looked like to get that tone from the normally oblivious Irishman. He took a ragged breath and pasted a smile on his face that seemed to alarm his travelling companions instead of reassuring them.

"Not everyone is as neat as you, that's all I was saying," Seamus said awkwardly, and Harry felt something give way. Despite his hopes that he'd be able to banish the first part of the summer, a day with his friends had shown him otherwise. What worked to keep him safe with the Muggles was wrong with the Wizards, and what kept him safe with the Wizards was forbidden with the Muggles. The demands of the two worlds were starting to pull Harry apart, and the conflict just boiled over, spewing from his mouth in a heated torrent of words.

"Yes, well, not everyone was starved for a day for leaving their comb out of alignment with the corner of their dresser, either," he snarled, "Nor was everyone beaten nearly to death by their Muggle family for being a Wizard. That would explain Skeeter's little attack of concern for the Muggle-born, hey?"

The train lurched to a halt and Harry was out in the corridor in a flash, heading for the platform and the bustle of a school's worth of children trying to get to where they had to be. He heard Hagrid calling for the first years and took a deep breath. Some things never changed - Hagrid was Hagrid, and his rotten temper and poor timing had apparently survived the summer intact too. He had no one to blame for that little outburst but himself.

Just ahead of him a painfully thin girl with white hair slipped when a bunch of third years rushed past her to get to the carriages. Harry hurried over and helped her up. Bright blue eyes blinked up at him, and she flushed a little.

"Thank you," she gasped and Harry forced a smile. It wasn't her fault either and he'd made a promise to Ron and Hermione in their fifth year to stop taking his temper out on other people.

"That's ok," he turned and looked at Hagrid. This girl was easily the smallest person on the platform, and Hagrid's height must have been intimidating to her, not to mention all the strangers rushing about.

"Come on, I'll introduce you to Hagrid. He's the Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts, and one of the nicest teachers there. He takes Care of Magical Creatures," Harry started forward, forging a path for the girl, who had taken his hand. From the strength of her grip she was terrified, and Harry wondered if he'd have to use the repelling spell on her to get her to let go.

"Alrigh' Harry?" Hagrid beamed as they reached his side. Harry grinned. There was just something about Hagrid that said 'home' to him. The fact that Hagrid was playing it up as if they hadn't seen each other all summer was pretty funny too. Hagrid's only expectation of Harry was that he always do his best, which helped Harry relax, the tension from the argument starting to fade a little.

"Yeah, Hagrid. I've got one of your charges here - people were knocking her about," Harry turned to include the girl in the conversation. Hagrid bent over to look at her, and she shrank back for a second before standing straight and meeting his gaze levelly. Harry made a mental bet that this young lady would be in Gryffindor by the end of the night, and knew that Hagrid was thinking along the same lines.

"Blimey! You're a tiddler an' no mistake. You jest stick wi' me, you'll do fine. Better get on Harry, or yer'll be walking to the castle," Hagrid reached over and took the girl's hand from Harry, who was relieved to get his circulation restored to his fingers.

"Right," he nodded and smiled at her one more time before turning and heading for the carriages. The thestrals that pulled them didn't even rate a glance this time. He had other things on his mind.

0oo0oo0

The evening hadn't got much better from there, though. The Sorting Hat had sung it's song and sorted the students, and the feast was as delicious as ever. Then Harry had stood behind Ron and Hermione, listening with half an ear to their 'welcome to Gryffindor' speech until Neville, Dean and Seamus had come up to apologise. Harry thought he might have sorted that particular problem out, or at least made things a little better, and best of all they'd promised not to say anything to anyone else. It was just as his two best friends were getting to the rules about the dorms, that things took a turn for the absolute worse.

Lee Jordan had stepped through the portrait hole, along with a group of seventh years. Harry had watched them come in, talking quietly about something or other, their heads together. There was a mixture of third and fourth years in the room, the Creevey brothers among them. One minute Harry was listening to Ron tell the first year boys that the bathrooms were to be kept tidy, the next everyone was ducking as a roaring ball of fire shot over their heads and ignited the Gryffindor banner above the mantle.

People started screaming and the first years stood petrified, staring at the banner in awe. Everyone leapt up, and the students at the fireplace started backing away from the banner. The Creevey's had their wands out, presumably to put the banner out, when several voices that no one knew cast the Jelly Legs jinx. First years went down in heaps, and Harry pulled his wand out, calling the counter jinx, as did several of the other seniors in the room.

There were more explosions of fire and the jinxes and hexes started flying left right and centre. People went down in awkward sprawls or shrieked in panic as their housemates did their best to counteract their attackers spells. Every time Harry thought they might be sure of getting everyone on their feet a new wave of jinxes, hexes and curses would erupt from different points in the room - and they couldn't seem to pinpoint who was causing it.

"Who's doing it?" Ron roared as he and Hermione joined Harry behind an armchair near the portrait hole. They were sending out counter jinxes as fast as they could, their voices often overlapping.

"I don't know - they're invisible!" Hermione snapped back. Ron squeezed himself tightly against Harry's side, and automatically their fingers linked together.

"Get the first years upstairs!" Harry roared over the noise to Angelina Johnson, and she nodded, grabbing a few of them and pushing them ahead of her. There was a ripple in the air, and without thinking Harry pointed his wand at the vulnerable group and shouted,

"Protegah!"

A shield with the Gryffindor lion appeared and whatever hex had been headed for the group recoiled back towards the caster. Protego was the charm for a shield to protect a Wizard from harm, but it would only protect the one who cast it. By changing the suffix from -o to -ah Harry had been able to cast his protection over the girls. Ron was quick to catch on and they started casting shields as quickly as they could, making it much more difficult for their attackers to take out the students as they ran in groups for the stairs.

The common room was beginning to burn fiercely, despite the water and freezing charms being cast by the remaining students. There was a tug on Harry's robe, and he glanced down to see Dobby at his side. The elf's eyes were wide with fright, but he barely flinched when a hex whizzed over his head.

"Master Harry, sir! The house elves are here to help!"

"Dobby! Tell them to get the teachers!" Harry gasped, choking on the smoke from a nearby couch, which was smouldering fiercely. They needed adult help - their teachers experience would turn the tide in their favour. In fact Dumbledore could probably sort this little lot out single-handedly.

"They are outside! They cannot get in!" Dobby squealed and threw a counter hex at whoever was targeting their armchair. Harry nodded, his fingers flexing against Ron's rapidly. With the common room on fire and no way out they were looking at a bad situation indeed. Ron turned and squinted down at the elf, signalling his agreement with Harry's plan.

"Get the elves to take as many students through the elf passages as will fit. Pass on a message to the seniors to break the windows and start taking people out on brooms!" Harry ordered, "Tell them not to take any risks - and the same for the house elves! Evacuate the tower as soon as you've got everyone you can, and someone tell the teachers what we're planning!"

"Yes Master Harry!" Dobby turned and disappeared. Harry didn't have time to see where he was going, as Hermione screamed in horror. Ron's tight grasp told Harry all he needed to know.

One of their attackers had hit the giant bookcase that stored the abandoned texts from former students and the various games that the Gryffindor's liked to play. It was tipping slowly forward, set to crush the writing tables in its path. Underneath one of the tables was the white haired girl that Harry had taken to Hagrid. She had her wand out and was trying to put out a small fire nearby, unaware of the danger above her.

"I can't hold it!" Hermione cried desperately, as her Levitation charm slowed, but did not stop the heavy bookcase. Ron and Harry jumped to their feet, both trying hard to remember the girls' name.

"Accio Beth Dunn!" the partners shouted and she flew across the room into their arms. They threw themselves down behind the armchair again just as seven balls of fire hit it. Beth wrapped her arms around Harry's neck and sobbed in fright. They scuttled back from the armchair, throwing up a shield as several jinxes targeted them.

"Is everyone upstairs?" Harry asked, coughing hard. The smoke had blinded Ron and Hermione had some small burns on her arms.

"Yes," Hermione gasped, and Harry started pulling them towards the stairs. It wouldn't do to get trapped behind the portrait of the Fat Lady. It took them longer than he would have liked to get to the stairs - their attackers were hounding them every step of the way, and once on the stairs they had even less cover to protect them. The stones themselves seemed to be on fire, and Harry was very grateful when Dobby appeared beside them again. Harry knew that the elf wouldn't be here unless he had carried out Harry's instructions, and luckily Beth wasn't much bigger than the elf.

"Take Beth!" Harry pushed the girl into the elf's arms and then ducked as Ron threw a shield between them and a ball of fire. Dobby grabbed the girl and they disappeared, her shrieks fading slowly as they got further and further away.

"Come on!" Ron yelled, tugging on Harry's hand, and he turned, pushing Hermione up the steps ahead of him. They ducked into the first boys' dorm room they came to and the door burst into flame just after they shut it. It exploded, sending burning splinters into the room. One struck Hermione on the head and Harry grabbed for her, putting her between himself and Ron. They staggered to the window, keeping their shield between them and the door.

"Harry!" Angelina shouted and he waved her over to the broken window urgently. She swooped over and hovered on her broom. Ron started pushing Hermione onto the windowsill, leaving Harry to maintain their shield.

"Take Hermione," Harry shouted, "She's hurt!"

Angelina reached out and grabbed the dazed girl, settling her onto her broom carefully before zooming away, heading straight for the ground. Lee Jordan took her place and Harry pushed Ron towards the window. Ron shot him an anguished glance, but climbed out quickly, knowing that to argue could be fatal. Harry did his best to maintain the shield, but it buckled when what felt like fifteen hexes hit it at once. One sliced across his right arm, sending blood spattering to the ground.

The pain clawed through Harry's nerves like a slash of a whip, stealing already scant breath, and he doubled over for a moment before reinforcing the shield. The doorway was entirely engulfed in flames, and the smoke was being sucked towards the windows, as the flames crept further into the room.

"Harry!" Colin Creevey shouted, and Harry turned, clambering awkwardly onto the windowsill. Harry had seen Colin fly just last year, and had been impressed with the other boys speed and agility. Harry threw himself forward recklessly, feeling Colin's hand grab his robe to steady him as the broom headed away from the window to the grass in front of the school.

He looked back at the Gryffindor tower and Colin steadied him on the broom. Flames were pouring from every window - the tower blazing like a beacon in the night.

0oo0oo0

Harry woke in the hospital wing, his arm aching fiercely, wrapped in heavy bandages, suspended in a sling. Dobby was sitting next to his feet, and Harry smiled at the elf before trying to sit up. Dobby was there in a flash, plumping pillows and offering Harry water. It took him a few minutes to calm the elf down, and by then Madam Pomfrey was there, checking him over and shooing Dobby back to the end of the bed.

"Where's Ron? Is Hermione ok? Did everyone get out?" Harry clutched her sleeve anxiously, and felt something relax when her kindly face smiled at him. Her hair and clothes were in their usual pristine order, so he knew she hadn't spent the night rushing from one gravely injured student to another.

"Yes, everyone got out safely. There were a few little burns, and some bumps and bruises. Miss Granger wasn't hurt badly and she's with the others having breakfast, and Mr Weasley wasn't hurt at all," she patted his shoulder, "Now, you're to have some breakfast, and I have a potion for you to take for that arm of yours. Then Professor Dumbledore wants to see everyone in the hospital wing after breakfast - we had to put all of Gryffindor in here last night. You can get up for that. And I expect to see you first thing in the morning and last thing at night every day until I tell you otherwise."

"Yes Madam Pomfrey," Harry nodded, and received a pat to the shoulder in return. She went to fetch his tray and Harry looked down the bed, holding his good hand out to Dobby.

"Did all the house elves get out too?" he asked as Dobby walked back up the bed. He patted the elf's shoulder lightly and Dobby beamed at him. It took so little to make the elf happy, and Harry was glad to make the effort. Without the assistance of Dobby and his fellow elves, Gryffindor tower would have been turned into a funeral pyre.

"They did, Master Harry, and none of the house elves were hurt at all. Gryffindor protected the elves! Stimpy the baking elf would have been hurt very badly if the young masters had not helped him. Never has a house elf been protected by a Wizard like that!"

"I'm glad that everyone is unhurt," Harry said rather inadequately. Dobby beamed at him again and then moved when Madam Pomfrey reappeared.

"Dobby has to return to the kitchen, Master Harry, but Dobby will come and visit if he is allowed to. Dobby will tell the other elves that Master Harry asked after them," the elf got off the bed and padded to the wall. He opened the door to one of the elf passages and disappeared down it. Madam Pomfrey put the tray in front of Harry with instructions for him to eat the lot, and then bustled out of the small room he had been put in to supervise the rest of Gryffindor.

After breakfast, Harry was given his wand and a pair of slippers and led out into the main ward of the hospital wing. The beds had all been removed and someone had conjured up a large number of couches and cushions. The whole house was seated on these, still in the hospital wing provided pyjamas and nightgowns, looking rather washed out and tired. Harry spotted Ron and Hermione sitting together on a large couch, sharing it with several first years, Beth Dunn included. Neville made as if to get up and give Harry his seat, but Harry kicked a free cushion over to the couch and sat at Ron's feet, leaning against the armrest for support and discreetly sticking a finger down Ron's sock. Professor Dumbledore was sitting in a squashy paisley armchair, and Professor McGonagal was beside him on a velvet red fainting couch. Both of them looked very grave. Professor McGonagal gave Harry a small smile and then looked over at the Headmaster.

"Firstly," Professor Dumbledore didn't even have to ask for quiet, the Gryffindor students were so subdued, "I want to thank every one of you for your courage, calm, and teamwork last night. You worked together to prevent what could have been a most terrible tragedy. You should be proud of yourselves, as indeed all your teachers are."

"Your parents have been informed, and will be here this afternoon to see you all," Professor McGonagal spoke up, and there was a little ripple of reaction through the room, "And I will say to you what I will say to them - last night you all exhibited the true spirit of your house, in your care for your fellow house mates. I am _honoured_ to have such excellent students in my house."

"During the attack, the house elves managed to not only assist you in your escape, but to rescue your personal belongings as well," Dumbledore spoke again, and Harry rubbed his finger over Ron's ankle bone in relief. He wasn't looking forward to repeating the mammoth shopping trip that would be necessary to restore his wardrobe and school supplies. Besides, he liked the stuff they'd bought the last time. Ron had chosen a few shirts especially for Harry - who'd been feeling sentimental enough to buy them.

"These are being cleaned and placed in the new Gryffindor quarters. Unfortunately the Gryffindor tower requires extensive repairs before it will be suitable for habitation once more, as it is now merely a ruined shell," the Headmaster continued, "Once we have completed our meeting here, you will be taken to your new dormitory and you will have the rest of the day to settle in."

The Gryffindor's smiled, whispering to each other, speculating where they would be. For a moment the allure of a new dormitory distracted them from the events of last night. Both the Professors let them talk, waiting until the students had settled again before resuming their remarks.

"Unfortunately we were unable to capture your assailants last night," Dumbledore said this softly and Harry felt the mood turn sharply to fear. Beth Dunn squeaked and got off the couch to come and sit on Harry's cushion, burrowing between his shoulder and Ron's leg. Harry disentangled himself from his friend's ankle to hug her for a moment.

"Why couldn't we see them?" Hermione had her hand in the air, "We all tried to summon their invisibility cloaks but it didn't work, and neither did the revealing spells we tried."

"They were using a Chameleon charm," Dumbledore told them, "It alters a persons appearance so they cannot be seen by human eyes."

"We should have kept Dobby with us - he'd have been able to tell us where they were," Hermione said to Ron, who shrugged and shook his head at her. Second-guessing was a habit that Hermione had after the fact - she had nearly driven them mad with her desire to go through all the OWL exams again once they were out of them.

"And how were we supposed to know that?" Ron asked her, "We didn't know the charm existed!"

"There is nothing you could have done differently last night," McGonagal interrupted what looked like the start of a quarrel, "You must remember that you were faced with a very difficult and dangerous situation. Your presence here this morning is proof that you did everything right to get out of there in one piece."

"Do we know how they got into the castle?" Angelina asked after a moment. She was also seated on a cushion near Ginny Weasley. Her braids were a bit singed, probably from ferrying people out of the windows to the lawn below. Several people nodded and leaned forward to catch this answer.

"We found traces of the Chameleon charm aboard the Hogwarts Express," Dumbledore looked around the room, meeting eyes and offering a little smile, "And we traced them to Hogsmeade as well - we are certain they have left the castle."

"Did they hurt the Fat Lady?" Neville asked next. McGonagal smiled at him kindly.

"They sealed her shut with a very difficult to remove version of the Permanent Sticking charm, but the fire didn't damage her canvas at all. She was very distressed of course, but she will be unstuck soon and we will be able to remove her for cleaning," she told him, and several people sighed in relief.

"Perhaps now would be a good time to discuss the events of last night," Dumbledore murmured. People shifted around a little, uneasy at reliving the event when it was so fresh in their minds, but Harry was resigned. Dumbledore did not believe in putting off unpleasant things.

"Harry can tell you - he was in charge," Seamus grinned over at his stunned housemate. Harry paled a little and looked around at his friends who were nodding and grinning at him. He didn't want to be in charge - the last time he had nearly killed his friends. Beth shifted against him, moving to hug him firmly.

"I wasn't!" he protested, and felt Ron lean over to touch his shoulder. The touch calmed him and he bit his lip. He and Ron and Hermione had worked together as a team - like they always did. And the rest of the seniors had done whatever they thought best as well.

"You were the one who organised us to get the juniors into the dorms," Angelina reminded him, while several people nodded in agreement. No one seemed upset by it - in fact the seventh years looked approving.

"And you made up that protection spell, too," Lee added, "It saved our arses when we headed up the stairs."

"Protection spell?" McGonagal looked over at Harry. He blushed and looked at his slippers. His change to the Protgeo spell had been a desperate, almost unthinking bid to save Angelina and her charges. It was a serendipitous discovery, and he wasn't inclined to claim any credit for it.

"Harry changed the suffix of the Protego protection spell from -o to -ah," Dean spoke up, "It forms a shield with the Gryffindor lion on it."

"Can you show me?" McGonagal leaned forward, and several people got out their wands. They pointed them at their housemates who grinned, not at all worried about the spell after it was tried and tested under such awful circumstances last night.

"Protegah," the word rang out strongly and shields with Gryffindor's lion popped up all over the hospital wing. Harry blinked at the one in front of him, and then grinned. He could feel faint warmth radiating from the shield and sighed. Beth chuckled and looked up at him.

"It's pretty," she whispered, "Did you invent it?"

"I guess," he shrugged as the shield faded away. McGonagal was giving him a rather strange look, but he ignored it. His arm was aching again and he was starting to feel tired. It was warm in the hospital wing, and he stuck his finger back down Ron's sock, the touch of skin on skin reassuring.

0oo0oo0

"I can't believe you went to sleep," Ron muttered as they followed Dumbledore along the fourth floor corridor. Harry had dozed off not long after the demonstration of the Protegah charm. His friends had let him sleep, waking him when it was time to go to their new dormitory. His head had been leaned against Beth's and when he woke she had been stroking his knee in a rather proprietary manner.

"I can't believe you let me," Harry replied, a little embarrassed, though no one had teased him about it. Beth had woken him with a gentle touch and Ron had hauled him up. He'd followed along obediently, waking as he walked with Ron's hand on his elbow to guide him along. Harry desperately wanted to be alone with his partner to check that he was ok, but knew that there was little chance of that for a while.

"Here we are," Professor McGonagal stopped in front of a large and rather hideous horned gargoyle. It had short stubby wings, and fangs that stuck at odd angles out of its mouth. It crouched on squat-clawed legs, and had four sets of strong arms that ended in three fingered hands.

"Who is that?" Harry asked without thinking, and the gargoyle rustled its wings, turning its head with a rough grinding sound to look at him through pale stone eyes.

"I am called Wrestler, who are you?" it's voice was also rough and grainy, and Harry blinked at him in astonishment.

"Put your wand hand on its head and give your full name," McGonagal told Harry, standing back to give him access. Ron helped Harry take the sling off, and Harry gritted his teeth as he lifted the arm. The stone felt warm under his sweaty palm, and tingled slightly.

"Harry Potter," he said obediently. The wings rustled and the wall behind the gargoyle rippled.

"Wotcher, General," Wrestler said in a respectful sort of tone and Harry stepped through the wall. He walked a few steps forward and turned to look behind him. Ron had his hand on Wrestler's head and was greeted with a 'righto, Colonel' before also stepping through the wall. He hurried over and put the sling back on Harry, stealing a very brief kiss as he did. His eyes were clouded with worry, but Hermione stepped inside and prevented them from speaking.

Harry turned his attention to the common room they were standing in. Scuffed leather couches were grouped around sturdy tables. There were floor length windows along one wall, letting in the sunlight, with faded red drapes tied back with yellow and red ties. Two large fireplaces - on opposite walls - dominated the room, and there was a new Gryffindor banner hung above one of them. Just past the main entrance there were two corridors, opposite each other, leading off into the rest of the dorms. There was three large wooden chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, and a few torches set in brackets on the walls. The floor was covered with thick rugs. Each entrance to a passage was surrounded by carved arms, twisting together to grip each other's wrists. Harry had the feeling that they would become as mobile as Wrestler was, should any of the boys attempt to sneak into the girls dorm.

While they had been looking at the common room the rest of Gryffindor had stepped through the wall. Professor McGonagal was the last person inside. She smiled at them all, and moved to stand between the two branching corridors. Harry thought she looked a little tired as she stood there. The teachers wouldn't have had much sleep last night - seeing to the safety of the students, putting out the fires and tracking the school's assailants must have taken a lot of energy and concentration.

"The girls dormitories are on the right, and the boys are on the left. At the end of each corridor there is a room for the seventh year Prefect, and halfway down there is a room for the fifth year Prefect, with the sixth year Prefects room located at the entrance to each corridor. The Prefects will of course be sharing this room with a friend, and I believe the house elves have already moved your belongings in. There are also boys and girls bathrooms and toilets located in each corridor for your use. I'll leave you to get settled, and find your way around. You are expected to come to the Great Hall for lunch, and your parents will meet you there afterwards. Wrestler will not admit anyone to the common room unless they touch his head and state their full name. Anyone not a member of Gryffindor will be restrained immediately."

She nodded to them and headed out through the wall. They stood around for a moment staring at each other before Ron cleared his throat in an attention getting kind of way.

"We should do something for the house elves," he said, "We should put a tin in the middle of the common room and all put in for a present or something."

"A plaque?" Neville suggested, "You know, we can say what they did and things."

"All in favour?" Hermione asked briskly, and everyone raised his or her hands. She nodded decisively and looked around, "I'll put the tin out then, and we'll have a collection by the end of the day. Now we should find our rooms and get cleaned up."

Harry smiled at his friend and turned to the boys near him, ushering them towards the left hand corridor. He passed the first door without glancing at it, walking them along to the next set of doors. There was a brass plaque shaped like a lion on them, with names engraved on it. Relieved that they wouldn't have to open every room and search for personal belongings, Harry urged the boys to find their names.

"Harry," Ron called and Harry turned back, passing friends and housemates as he trudged back to Ron. Ron pointed to the sixth year Prefects door. The brass plaque read R Weasley and H Potter. Ron grinned at him and opened the door.

They stepped into a narrow rectangular room with a high ceiling. To the left of the door was a large mahogany wardrobe that took up most of the space between the walls, leaving just enough room to open the doors, or to walk past it to the rest of the room. In front of them was a window and just underneath it sat a bookcase with all their books - the Muggle fiction they'd started to collect and all of Harry's old and new schoolbooks as well as his collection of Defensive books, side by side with Ron's books as well. The wall to the right of the door held hooks that their cloaks and bags hung from; including the broom storage bags that Hermione had given them. There were also a couple of moth eaten wing chairs, with a table between them.

Ron stepped past the bulky wardrobe. There was a small fireplace with a fireguard in front of it and a mirror hanging over the mantle. A second window had a large dresser underneath it. There was a curtained bunk bed jammed into the end of the room, about the width of the four-posters that they usually slept in. There was also a large writing desk and their trunks. Harry stared at the bed with longing and Ron turned around to close the door and put a privacy seal on it. He came back to Harry and put his arms around him, spooning up against Harry's back. He felt some of the tension leave his body as Ron hugged him close and sighed into his neck.

"Come on, bed," Ron mumbled, and walked them forward. Harry reached out and opened the curtains before climbing onto the bed. Ron followed him and settled Harry on his back, touching him lightly, then curling up beside him to stroke Harry's right hand.

"I was so scared you'd be hurt," Harry blurted, and Ron leaned over to kiss him. They kissed for a long moment and then leaned back.

"Me too, you heroic General," Ron teased and Harry felt himself flush. He wrapped his good hand in Ron's hair and pulled a face.

"Insubordination, Colonel?" he asked lightly, and Ron grinned. Harry was feeling a lot better if Ron could grin at him like that.

"Yeah, and did you hear Wrestler call Neville Sarge? I thought he was going to burst," Ron kissed Harry again, "And now we've got a whole year in here together. Privacy. I bet Dobby had something to do with this."

"Mmm," Harry rubbed his fingers through Ron's hair. Right now he was far too comfortable to care about anything. Ron smiled at him and put his head down, burying his face in Harry's neck. They held each other quietly.

0oo0oo0

They had collected a large amount of money from their fellow housemates, Ron mused as he peered into the collection tin the next morning. There were quite a few galleons in the mix, and the rest were silver sickles. They'd be able to afford the plaque easily, and maybe have enough left over for something extra. He heard Harry come through the wall and smiled, putting the tin back. He'd had fun waking Harry early this morning and helping him with his morning ablutions and dressing. Though his partner wasn't up for any fun and games, they'd enjoyed touching each other lightly and making rude comments.

"What did Madam Pomfrey say?" he asked his friend. Harry was frowning a little, but the pain he'd woken with was gone from his face. His arm was still heavily wrapped, and supported under his robes with a sling. It made Ron's heart lurch each time he saw it, remembering Colin's landing on the lawn, the blonde boy yelling for help as Harry fainted from blood loss.

"I have to wear the sling for the next fortnight," he sighed, "Report to her before breakfast and tea for new dressings and potions, and I'm not to use my hand for wand work or note taking, though I can attend classes."

"What, you'll just sit there?" Ron rolled his eyes, "Half your luck."

"Actually, Madam Pomfrey taught me the kind of spell they use to make Quick Quote Quills," Harry replied, "So I'll be taking notes anyway."

Normally quills that took notes automatically were banned from student use, but as Harry couldn't write left handed the teachers would make an exception until he regained the full use of his arm. Ron was glad that his friend would have something to do in lessons besides sit there - Harry was a doer, not a sitter, and would likely drive them all to distraction with his fidgets.

"Good morning," Ginny emerged from the sixth year Prefects room, her bag already over her shoulder, "How are you today, Harry?"

"What am I, chopped liver?" Ron complained, and Ginny pulled a face at him. Harry knew it was a part of their family makeup to bicker and tease, though the Weasley's were the closest family he'd ever had the privilege to meet.

"Good morning, Ron," her voice was exasperated, "Do you mind?"

"I'm fine, Ginny," Harry laughed a little at Ron's disgruntled expression. He could hear people stirring in the corridors behind them and knew that the rest of Gryffindor would soon join them, "You're staying with Hermione?"

"Yep, and the beds are so queer - they're bunk beds, but with the usual curtains. But you'd know that, right?" she tilted her head and Harry nodded. The top bunk wasn't going to be in use this year, but they didn't have to tell anyone that. Ron cleared his throat and went to fetch their bags, not wanting to give the game away. Hermione was out there examining the tin when he returned, and that reminded Ron it was his turn to pay the owl for their Daily Prophet. He checked to make sure he had the coins and then jerked his head at Harry, who immediately understood.

"We'll see you at breakfast," he told the girls and followed Ron out into the corridor. They both said good morning to Wrestler on their way past, walking along the corridor briskly. The Great Hall was slowly filling with students as they arrived, and Ron led Harry to their usual place at one end of the Gryffindor tables. They sat down and Harry shifted their plates automatically while Ron started slathering jam onto toast and piling it onto the top plate. Harry poured pumpkin juice for them both and the owl arrived right on time. They settled into their morning habit of reading whilst they ate, talking quietly over the articles as the table filled around them. Professor McGonagal had handed out their timetables yesterday, and Tuesday morning started with double Potions.

Ron was not looking forward to this, as Snape was sure to be in a foul mood, and Malfoy would probably have some choice comments lined up about the attack on Gryffindor. He watched Harry wipe his face clear of crumbs and sighed, folding the paper and stuffing it into his robes.

"Come on, we might as well get going," he sighed, and glanced around the table. The first years were sitting halfway down the Gryffindor tables, bracketed by the senior students protectively. Hermione and Neville were sitting opposite him and Harry, talking in low voices.

"Neville, are you in Potions this year?" Ron asked curiously, and Neville nodded, his face glowing with pride. Snape frequently reduced Neville to a pitiful state of nerves, but the forgetful boy had obviously been paying more attention than anyone had thought.

"I couldn't believe it when I got my results!" he told them, "The only other O I got was in Herbology!"

Ron let Harry congratulate Neville while he fished both their bags out of from under the seat. Students were moving all around them and Ron was a little worried about Harry's arm, knowing that it was still very painful and an accidental - or not so accidental - bump would be agonising. Hermione had also gotten up, and she and Neville bracketed Harry, with Ron leading the way to Potions. That turned out to be a wise move as Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle tried to cut them off at the door, foiled by a bunch of seventh years from Hufflepuff who wandered away from their table, heads together as they consulted over a book.

They waited quietly outside the Potions dungeon, Hermione telling them all about the fascinating potions she'd read through over the holiday, and Neville telling them a little about some of the more exotic ingredients. Neville's love of Herbology was starting to pay off as his knowledge boosted him in Potions. Malfoy glared at them from further down the line, looking rather diminished without Crabbe and Goyle looming in the background. Evidently his companions hadn't made the grade to be accepted into Potions this year. Susan Bones and Justin Finch-Fletchley had made the cut, as had Terry Boot and Dean Thomas. Seamus' potions weren't bad, but they did tend to be a bit weak, hence his absence.

Snape let them in with a sour expression on his face, and they moved to sit quietly in the dungeon. Ron realised the Professor was giving Harry a rather funny look, but his friend was too busy setting up his quill and parchment to notice. Snape prefaced his morning lecture with some disparaging remarks about the 'lax examination process that allowed some people to gain such high marks' and then coldly informed them that he expected those marks to be maintained.

He launched into an explanation of today's potion - one that would seal magical wounds from the inside, and the most difficult one they'd tried to date - and then put the notes up on the blackboard. Once everyone was finished with the notes and involved in the preparation of their ingredients - and Neville looked a little pale, but very determined - Snape called Harry up to his desk.

Ron watched with concern as his partner walked quietly to Snape's side and then turned his attention back to his ingredients when Snape glanced his way. He listened with half an ear as Snape put Harry through a ten minute catechism on the effect of each ingredient being used, the reason they were prepared in the method Snape had indicated, the effect of improper temperatures on the brewing and storing of the potion, and the correct sealing spell to use to keep the potion most potent over a length of time.

His friend was dismissed with a curt word - and no indication of whether he'd answered correctly or not - and Harry turned to go back to his seat. Malfoy moved around his cauldron and then stepped back as Harry passed, tripping them both and twisting so that Harry landed beneath him. Ron lurched forward, his stomach knotted at his friend's cry of pain, but Snape beat him to it.

"Malfoy!" Snape roared, and Ron felt sick when he saw the blonde haired Slytherin put a hand back and squeeze down on the bandages as he got up. Harry was pale and sweaty as he bit his lip hard enough to draw blood.

"Potter tripped me sir," Malfoy lied and then yelped as Snape practically shoved him aside to get to Harry. Ron was there too, ignoring the Slytherin student and reaching for his friend. Snape beat him to it, helping Harry sit up and then baring the affected arm carefully. The bandages were bloodstained and Ron sucked in a breath.

"Mr Weasley, take Mr Potter to the hospital wing, and then come straight back here," Snape ordered, and Ron put an arm around Harry.

"Lean on me, mate," he murmured and Harry made a pained noise as they levered him to his feet. Snape let go and Ron slowly led Harry out of the dungeon, aware of the glares being sent Malfoy's way by the rest of the class. Harry was breathing rather heavily and Ron rubbed his fingers on the other teen's arm.

"Ron, don't do anything to get into trouble with Snape. Leave Malfoy alone, please," Harry whispered softly, and Ron sighed. He nodded reluctantly, guiding them up the steps.

"I promise," he told his friend, "Lets just get to the hospital wing and let Madam Pomfrey look at you."

Madam Pomfrey was highly indignant and whisked Harry off, leaving Ron to return to the dungeon slowly. It was silent except for the sound of the potions bubbling and he retook his place quickly, glancing around.

Malfoy was scowling mightily, and Hermione looked a little tense. Neville had his head down, frowning in concentration and Ron picked up his spoon, stirring his potion experimentally and then leaning down to change the fire, cooling it a little. From Hermione's significant look Ron knew he'd have to find out what had happened at dinnertime.

0oo0oo0

"He got a detention?" Harry grinned a little. Ron was sitting in one of the winged chairs in their room, flipping through a book, looking for a spell while Hermione leaned on their bookshelf. The red head grinned at his partner, but let their friend tell him as she had witnessed it.

"Professor Snape glared at him and told him he'd have detention after tea on Friday," Hermione nodded at him. Harry chuckled and leaned back in his seat. He was still too pale for Ron's liking, but there was nothing the redhead could do about it. Madam Pomfrey had kept Harry for the rest of the day, and none of the teachers had inquired. Professor Dumbledore had been present for dinner and tea, presiding over the room in what seemed to be a very disapproving mood.

"Did Madam Pomfrey say anything about your arm?" Hermione asked anxiously and Harry shook his head stubbornly. Ron looked over at his friend and Harry sighed, giving in.

"Just that if it tears open again she'll keep me in the hospital wing until it's healed," he mumbled, a little flushed, "Don't fuss."

The last comment was directed to Ron, who didn't need a mirror to know his face was also flushed, with temper. Ron nodded and bit his lip, knowing that to retaliate against Malfoy when Harry was still vulnerable was to possibly inflict further pain on his mate. Further discussion was prevented by the appearance of Dobby. He was carrying a tray, and peering rather anxiously at Harry's pale face. Ron felt a rush of affection for the faithful house elf and made a mental note to get Dobby an extra special Christmas present.

"Dobby has brought some supper for Masters Harry and Wheezy," the elf announced. Hermione bristled and Ron groaned under his breath. They didn't need an impromptu lecture on the slavery of house elves right now.

"Masters Harry and Wheezy?" she asked in a rather dangerous voice. Dobby beamed up at her.

"Oh yes, Dobby is taking very special care of Master Harry and his Wheezy," the elf told her, conjuring up an extra cup of tea and some more scones. Hermione raised her eyebrows at them and Harry spoke up before Ron could.

"That reminds me Hermione," Harry's voice was determined, "I've been wanting to speak to you about the hats and things you hide in the common room. You've insulted the house elves to the point that they won't clean in here at all. Dobby had to clean the tower all by himself last year - though he said he didn't mind it…"

"Dobby did not! Dobby was pleased to do it. Dobby hoped to see Master Harry more often!" Dobby interjected, his eyes wide. Ron smiled at the elf kindly, and reassured him before Harry could.

"And you were a great help to us last year too, Dobby. Harry told us it was you who came up with the Room of Requirement when we needed it."

Dobby beamed happily and Harry took control back of the conversation, offering the elf a smile of his own.

"I just don't think it fair that you do the work alone Dobby, and Hermione it's not right of you to trick the elves into a freedom they don't want. I agree that the slavery is wrong, and that something should be done, but why insult the elves while you're at it?"

"Harry's right, Hermione," Ron backed his friend up, ignoring the angry looks she was shooting at them, "If you want to change things for the house elves then you should do it legally - maybe get a few laws passed for their protection, and see about getting wages for them. Professor Dumbledore agrees that we should treat non-human magical creatures better, but you don't see him going around tricking them into something they mightn't want."

Hermione stopped glaring and started looking interested. Harry took the opportunity to thank Dobby and pass around the scones. With a bit of luck they'd avoid an argument and Hermione would start looking for better ways to achieve her goal.

0oo0oo0


	4. 1st term, sixth year 2

They settled on a tea towel each with the Gryffindor logo printed on it, and a badge with the Gryffindor lion on the front, and the date, the house elf's name and a message of thanks on the back for each house elf that had assisted them during the attack. There was also a plaque, charmed to be self polishing, detailing the actions of the house elf's, which would be mounted on the wall outside the Gryffindor common room once it was repaired.

The Headmaster had given permission for them to make the presentation in front of the school, and the seventh years did it after tea, only nine days after their tower was destroyed. Professor McGonagal had helped them get their order to Diagon Alley and back in record time, and Harry sat with his housemates while the Headmaster and Prefects handed out their thanks. He led the three cheers at the end, and several embarrassed house elves had to be led aside to a quiet room to recover.

Dobby was thrilled with it all, and wore his badge proudly, though Harry thought that his fellow elves would probably just put the mementoes away somewhere safe. Ron made a similar comment silently, and both agreed not to mention their understanding to Hermione, who would probably get all stirred up again.

Harry had been approached by Angelina Johnson about playing as Seeker this year. With his arm injured, he wouldn't be able to try out with the rest of the team but she had proposed they hold a separate trial for Seekers when his arm was better. Ron had been looking so hopeful that Harry had agreed, though he'd said to Ron and Hermione later that it didn't seem very fair. Ginny had announced last year that she intended to try for Chaser this term, so Harry wasn't worried about hurting her feelings.

"Nonsense, Harry," Hermione had scolded, "Angelina wants the best team possible, so of course she's going to wait until her Seeker is recovered before holding trials."

"What about the lifetime ban?" Harry pointed out, "I mean, Umbridge was a complete prat, but she did have the authority at the time to impose it."

"And that authority has been removed, Mr Potter, along with the ban," Professor McGonagal said from behind them, "Now if that's settled, perhaps you'd like to come into class!"

Harry flushed and followed his friends in. Transfiguration was becoming more and more difficult, and this year they'd be tested for Animagus qualities. As no one had known that his father and Sirius were Animagi, Harry supposed the test was a new one. The teachers of each subject had continued to pull Harry to one side during lessons and question him closely about the minutiae of the spells, charms, beasts and potions that the sixth years were learning. Harry understood it was a way to ensure he was taking in what they were saying while he was unable to actually participate, but he found it more draining than actually making the spell, charm, potion or handling the beast itself.

They were turning spoons into lyrebirds this lesson, a tricky transformation that required precise enunciation and wand control. Harry went up for his usual catechism, glad that the bandages were coming off on the weekend. That was only another day away, and then with luck he'd be able to get a bit of his own back at Malfoy. The blonde teen had taken to lurking around Harry whenever he was outside the Gryffindor common rooms, or in between classes. Harry knew he was trying to put him off balance, and unfortunately it was working. Harry was tense and paranoid, which meant that Ron was too - and his partner's temper did not respond well to unresolved tension.

"Professor," Harry said very softly when McGonagal had finished asking him questions, "When will you be holding the Animagus testing?"

"Not until just before Christmas, Mr Potter," she replied, and her eyes softened a little, "You needn't be concerned. If you have inherited your fathers talent that will be quite a useful skill for a future Auror."

"But you'll have to register me," Harry tilted his head, "Won't that make the transformation redundant? If everyone knows what an Auror can turn into then it's not much of a disguise."

"An Auror's Animagus status is sealed to the public - indeed even to most members of the Ministry," McGonagal informed him, "Don't worry, Mr Potter. You will be given more information closer to the date."

Harry nodded and went to sit down, watching Ron's spoon grow some metallic feathers. He pulled his textbook out after a moment and looked through it for the chapter on Animagus - deciding to get some extra reading done now. He couldn't explain why he felt the way he did about the subject, only that he was rather curious and apprehensive about it all.

0oo0oo0

It hadn't been too hard for Harry to regain his position as Seeker in the Gryffindor team, and Ron had helped his partner to celebrate very enthusiastically that night. Their first match would be against Hufflepuff, and Angelina had them training hard. Ron was relieved that the nerves that had held him back last year stayed buried in the past, and was able to make a very good showing during practice. Malfoy had turned up with is usual crowd of hangers-on, but the Gryffindor team had ignored them easily, more intent in breaking in their Beaters and giving Ginny a chance to practice some of her moves as Chaser.

They were still fairly elated the next morning when they sat down to breakfast. With Harry's arm out of the sling, he and Ron were able to re-establish their morning routine of reading the paper while their fingers talked to each other - a vital connection that had been sorely missed. Ron's comments on the latest Quidditch scores were still echoing up Harry's arm when he noticed the glum looks from Hermione and Dean.

"Hermione, don't take her seriously," Harry said quietly, and Ron nodded agreement. Rita Skeeter was becoming more and more insistent about her crusade, and Hermione was becoming more and more depressed over the whole matter. Ron sighed as Harry let him go and bent to rummage in his bag.

"Look, Hermione," Ron offered, "There's nothing we can do, short of revealing her own little secret."

"You know what she's building up to, Ron," Hermione scowled heavily at him, shooting a significant look at Harry, who was now writing something intently at the top of a roll of parchment. Ron sighed and glanced at his partner for a moment before looking up at the teachers' table. Professor McGonagal was scowling at her morning paper, and Professor Sprout was talking earnestly to Professors Flitwick and Sinistra. It wasn't just the students who were disturbed by the report, and Professor Dumbledore was watching the students very closely. The whole Hall was restless, people sitting with their heads together in clumps.

"I know," Ron conceded, "But short of squashing her like a bug there's nothing we can do to stop her writing. The Daily Prophet proved their lack of morals last year when they reported Harry and Professor Dumbledore were nuts. And you can't use your influence on her Hermione, because she'll find a way to twist that to her purpose too. You'd be written up as part of the problem."

"I think we can come up with another plan," Harry signed what he was writing with a flourish and stuffed it inside his bag as the teachers stood up to signal that students should head to class.

"What are you planning?" Ron scowled at his friend. There was only one area in his life that he liked surprises, and this was not it. Harry bustled them all along the corridor towards the History of Magic classroom.

"I'll tell you later," he promised as they sat down and Professor Binns glided through the blackboard.

Ron fidgeted all through the lesson, until Harry poked him in the ribs with a scowl of his own. Hermione was taking her usual copious notes, and Harry was reading through what he had written at breakfast. Ron leaned over to take a peek and Harry sighed very quietly, shoving the parchment over. The further Ron read, the bigger the grin on his face. He reached the end and nicked Harry's quill to sign beneath his friend's name. Beneath the desk, their fingers tangled.

/Good idea/ Ron commented, and Harry raised an eyebrow at him.

/You sure? It could backfire/

/Nah, you've got them cold/ Ron handed the roll back and Harry nodded, reading it through one more time before tucking it away.

/We'll start it in Gryffindor, then Hufflepuff/ Harry told him and Ron nodded. Hermione was giving them some very queer looks and they let go of each other, though Ron knew she hadn't seen their tangled fingers under the desk.

0oo0oo0

'We the undersigned wish to register our disapproval and dismay at the blatant attempts to marginalize and isolate the Muggle-born members of the Wizarding community as reported by Rita Skeeter in the Daily Prophet. We would like to assert that to our knowledge, Miss Skeeter has never once attempted to speak to any of the people concerned in her stories - including the Muggles that she is allegedly quoting. We would further like to register our disgust in the apparently slipping standards of the Daily Prophet's reporting standards and their editors evident disregard for the truth that they are supposed to be representing.'

It was signed by the entire student bodies of Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Gryffindor, with a few teachers added besides. Copies of the petition went to the Daily Prophet, Witch Weekly, and Wizards Monthly Review. Professor Dumbledore had seen the petition and given tacit approval of it by not confiscating it. Harry and Ron had sent their owls off to the periodicals, and sent the original petition back with the owl that delivered the Daily Prophet.

The newspaper ignored it until the periodicals came out with it as their leading stories. Forced to make some kind of acknowledgement, the Daily Prophet shut down Rita's regular column quietly, and printed an editors note to the effect that the paper was a forum for public opinion and the editorial process had to cater for a wide range of readers tastes.

Hermione had cheered up a little, and Dean had been heard to tell Seamus that that was the last they'd hear about that. No one had much time to brood on the matter as the first Hogsmeade weekend was coming up, and everyone was planning what they'd do once they got there.

Flourish and Blotts had opened a branch in the village, and Harry wanted to look through the books on offer. Hermione was all for that plan, and Ron came along as a matter of course, complaining under his breath and teasing Harry about turning into a bookworm.

"They might have more Muggle books," Harry pointed out, "Or you could order that one you were telling me about last night."

As they'd been in bed together last night, and the discussion had ended with a wrestling match that had further devolved into a pretty hot groping session, Ron shut up and blushed a little. Hermione asked which book he'd been interested in, mistaking the blush for being embarrassed about having a hobby so like his fathers. Ron spent the rest of the walk fending off her curious questions.

Once inside the new shop - just as crowded with books as the one in Diagon Alley - the three of them split up. Harry found the area that dealt with magical transformations and started searching for more texts on Animagi. The school library had several excellent texts that were on loan to seventh year students, and Harry saw no reason why he shouldn't just get his own copies. He tucked several promising books under his arm and browsed further along the shelves, listening with half an ear as Ron enthusiastically discussed David Brin with Hermione. Glad that they'd found something from Hermione's world in common - thus staying out of his hair - Harry pulled another book off the shelf and flicked through it briefly, a faint tinge creeping over his cheeks when he realised it was a book about sexuality. There were the usual highly detailed anatomy chapters at the beginning of the book, and then it started talking about other things. Harry realised the diagrams were moving, to give better detail to the descriptions and hurriedly flipped the pages away from one particularly enthusiastic diagram. The header at the top of the new page said 'alternate styles of loving' and showed two men…

Harry shut the book and looked at the front cover for a moment. The diagrams in that last chapter had woken a very wild desire in him, and he took a deep breath, checking the anatomy chapters again against the Animagus books he was holding. He'd be able to put the purchase of the book down to his interest in Animagi, and if he was quick he could make the purchase before Ron and Hermione caught up with him.

Decision made, Harry hurried to the front counter, placing his selection down confidently and greatly relieved when the assistant merely totalled his purchase and wrapped the books for him.

0oo0oo0

Ron felt a jolt go right to his groin and gaped at his partner. The book was open on the bed, with a couple of jars of cream from the Apothecary sitting beside it. The diagram in the book was very energetic, and the way Harry was caressing the page with the tips of his fingers had Ron hot and bothered in just a few seconds.

"You want to do that?" Ron gestured weakly, "Who'd do…I mean which…"

"I want you to do it to me," the comment was directed to a point over Ron's left shoulder. He nearly turned to see who it was his friend was speaking to. Ron gaped down at the diagram as it went back to the beginning and started again. They'd mainly used their hands and mouths on each other so far - Ron loved Harry's taste and went after it every chance he got. Seeing as they were both healthy teenagers that was quite a lot.

"You really fancy that?" Ron asked through a dry mouth and Harry nodded. Ron pushed the book aside and moved to take Harry in his arms. For someone with Harry's past to willingly put himself in such a vulnerable position… Ron thought his heart would burst.

"Not if you don't," Harry sighed into Ron's hair and Ron snorted, pulling one of his friends' hands into his lap.

"What do you think?" Ron asked and then moaned as Harry's hand touched curiously, then began a slow massage that would end the whole thing before they got started. Ron captured the hand and smiled when his partner whined in disappointment. He kissed the pout and then pulled the book back over to them.

They ended up with Ron sitting propped against pillows, Harry in his lap. They'd spent quite some time touching and playing with the slippery contents of the vanilla scented jar. Harry had felt such pleasure when Ron touched him just right that they had abandoned the book to simply experiment.

Ron had felt himself enter the tightest place in Harry's body, and it was almost over before it began. He'd held Harry close, their bodies barely moving, gasps and moans the only noises as their fingers and hands did the talking for them. They reached completion together, the world whiting out with pleasure, leaving them wrung out, messy and clinging.

Harry stirred after a little while and gave Ron a slightly embarrassed look. Ron took a guess at what was bothering his partner and did his best to make Harry feel better in his own special way. He didn't want Harry to think that Ron thought less of him for what they'd just done together - in fact Ron was hoping to do that together a lot more. He admired someone that could just let go like that, especially considering Harry's experiences. Therefore, his next comment came straight from the heart.

"Harry, my lad, you are one hell of a shag."

Outraged splutters turned into helpless laughter and Ron shifted them around, spooning up around his partner and holding on tight.

0oo0oo0

"As you know, we've spent the last week going over the theory behind Animagus transformations thoroughly," Professor McGonagal stood beside her desk and eyed them all. In a special once off lesson, all four houses were seated in the classroom, "Today you are going to attempt the Animagus transformations yourselves. I will remind you that there is no shame in being unable to perform this particular spell as it is not just a matter of understanding the spell but talent that is often inherited from your families. You will find the theory for this particular spell is covered extensively in the end of year test, and I will remind you that any transformation that you do manage must be registered with the Ministry of Magic. That will be done with my assistance at an interview I will arrange for those of you who complete the transformation."

Harry's gut was twisting in a rather nasty way. He couldn't tell if it was because he wanted to be able to transform or if he didn't. He knew his father could become a stag, but what if Harry became a rat like Pettigrew? Ron was sitting beside Harry calmly, not at all fussed about this one way or the other. Harry hadn't discussed this with his partner, wanting to seem as calm about it as Ron obviously was.

"In order to prevent any accidents I will call you up one at a time. Whilst you are waiting I think it would be best if you reviewed the theory thoroughly, and ensure you know the incantation. Remember, to actually transform you must not say the incantation at all, but will it to occur. Also, whilst you are waiting it would be best if you could be as silent as possible to avoid distracting the students that are attempting transformation."

Harry bit his lip and Ron glanced over, frowning. Unwilling to catch McGonagal's attention, Harry reached out surreptitiously and took Ron's fingers in his own.

/Do you think you'll do it// he asked Ron who grinned and shook his head easily.

/Nah, there are no Animagus in our family. We don't have the talent. / Ron looked calm about it, and Harry felt a little better. If Ron didn't care that he couldn't change why should Harry?

/That's better / Ron's sudden comment told Harry that his partner had noticed and he shot him a rueful grin. He knew that he could be a bit obsessive over things like this - a lot of the time the pressure he felt came from wondering what his parents or Sirius would think of his actions and accomplishments. Professor McGonagal was steadily working her way through the students in the room, calling them out alphabetically.

Hermione got up with a gulp and Harry turned to watch. He smiled when she glanced at them, and Ron squeezed his fingers. They knew that she would be disappointed if she failed, and five minutes later Harry put an arm around her shoulders in commiseration. She sighed and then straightened up. He let go and they watched as Neville managed to transform into a brown hare - the first successful transformation of the class. Everyone clapped, which made the hare jump rather violently, and then Neville was back, flushed with success and grinning hard. The formerly tubby and painfully insecure boy had grown into a sleek teenager during the summer, who was starting to find his confidence. Each success boosted him more and more, until he could even begin to face Potions with a calm façade.

"Good on ya, Nev!" Ron called out as their friend returned to his seat, and Neville sent them a grin. Even Professor McGonagal was beaming at him, a rare thing for the austere Head of Gryffindor.

Malfoy was next, and Harry watched with no small amount of glee as the Slytherin pureblood failed to accomplish the transformation. Professor McGonagal merely moved down the list, the Patil twins next.

"Harry Potter," McGonagal called and Harry shut his books and got up, walking to the front calmly. He knew the incantation back to front and had done enough extra reading to know that the process itself wasn't painful at all. There were remedial spells, which his father had probably used to overcome whatever problems Pettigrew had with the transformation, but Harry didn't feel the need to search them out. He'd fail at this, and then go sit back with Ron.

"When you're ready," McGonagal urged and Harry took a deep breath, centering his mind and focussing on the incantation. There was a warm sensation, flowing over him like water, and then he was looking up at Professor McGonagal from about mid thigh height. The mirror behind her showed a rather large wolf, with shaggy black tipped fur and faint rings around his eyes where his glasses sat. He gaped at her, and then shook his head, reversing the spell easily, a cold flow of sensation.

"Well done, Harry," McGonagal was smiling at him too, and Harry returned to his seat in a daze. Ron slapped him on the back and Hermione squeezed his hand in congratulations. Harry just gaped at them incredulously. He was supposed to fail!

"Close your mouth," Ron suggested kindly, "And look at Malfoy - he's going to burst something if he doesn't ease up."

Sure enough the blonde teen was red faced with fury. Harry shot him a smug look - he couldn't help it - and then turned to Ron. He had bigger problems than Malfoy's lack of talent.

"You don't mind?" he asked in a very low voice and Ron rolled his eyes. His partner shook his head and gave him a look that promised they'd speak about this later. Harry was a little paranoid about showing his partner up, or making him feel that he'd been shown up, ever since their fight during the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Harry never wanted to be that alone again.

"Ronald Weasley," Professor McGonagal called, and Ron got up, walking confidently to their teacher and smiling at her. She smiled back and gestured for him to get on with it. Ron cleared his throat - the nervous habit he'd acquired in their first year had never really disappeared and always made Harry smile a little - and his body flowed and changed into that of a large red fox. Harry grinned at the surprised yip his partner made, and clapped with the rest of the class as Ron returned to his normal form. He was rather pale, and totally gob smacked.

"That wasn't supposed to happen!" he told McGonagal, "It's not a Weasley gift!"

Malfoy made some sneering comment to Millicent Bulstrode, which had her giggling not too discreetly into her hand. Half the class glared at them, and someone muttered something about 'sour grapes', which shut them both up rather quickly.

"Never-the-less, Mr Weasley, it is one you have," Professor McGonagal told him kindly, and sent him back to his seat. Ron plonked down next to Harry and gaped at him in bewilderment while Harry merely grinned and patted his shoulder.

The three people who had managed a transformation were kept behind when the class was dismissed. Professor McGonagal had them all transform again and encouraged them to move around and get used to the animal forms they had taken on while she filled out the paperwork. Harry nipped his partner on the tail, starting a game of tag that had all three of them racing around the classroom, leaping over and under furniture. Their Head of House seemed inclined to ignore the noise for a moment, and Harry took the opportunity to enjoy the feeling of sleek power and easy balance. Neville was the fastest of them, and Ron was more agile than Harry's larger form.

Eventually the Professor called them back to their human form and informed them that she was sending the news to their parents, as well as the official notification to the Ministry, who would probably send an Auror out to check them over and register them properly. She requested that they refrain from changing forms in the corridors or common rooms, and congratulated them all once again.

"Mr Potter, I thought I might add your information to Mr Weasley's note."

Harry was rather surprised at the thought, but agreed readily.

"Thank you Professor, Aunt Molly would probably singe my ears off if I didn't tell her straight away," he nodded and they were dismissed to their common room.

0oo0oo0

"Mum says congratulations, and she can't wait for us to show her at Christmas," Ron tossed the note on top of the bookcase, turning to lean on it and Harry frowned up at his partner. The redhead had gone to catch his excitable owl when it had flown itself down a chimney in the common room and started buzzing the students there. Dean had come to tell Ron what was happening, laughing so hard he could barely get the words out. Harry had been sitting with Hermione; going over the Animagus books in his collection and discussing the spells with her in an effort to help her either give up on becoming an Animagus, or help her achieve her goal.

At his partners' words, Harry felt an icy fist forming in his gut. He was expected to spend Christmas with Ron's family? With his parents and siblings? Didn't Ron know that this was impossible?

"Christmas?" he asked quietly and Ron nodded, looking a little confused.

"Yeah, we're going to the Burrow for Christmas this year mate, didn't I mention it? Mum is expecting us. You're welcome too, Hermione," he smiled at the girl beside Harry, who rolled her eyes.

"Honestly, Ron, you did this last year too," she scolded while Harry felt as if all the warmth in the room had been sucked out, "What is it with you and last minute invitations? Besides I can't go, I've got to go home. Mum and Dad are having a big family reunion this Christmas, and I don't want to miss it."

"Right, well I'll send Pig with a note to let mum know it's just Ginny, Harry and me," Ron shrugged, and Hermione nodded.

"I'll send her a note too," she decided, "Can I borrow Hedwig Harry?"

Harry gaped at her, and then frowned over at Ron, who frowned back. He couldn't believe Ron would expect them to go to the Burrow and simply lie to his parents for the entire Christmas holidays. Did he have no idea how difficult it had become for Harry to conceal about how he felt for Ron?

"Uh, yeah, she can take my note too," Harry made an effort to speak normally, though his hands were shaking with anger and shock. Two weeks with Ron's family, pretending that he didn't love Ron, and didn't just want to touch him every minute of the day. It was bad enough at school, but he had been hoping that they could relax a little together these holidays.

"Note?" Ron asked, a puzzled look on his face, and Harry wished his partner would just leave it until they were alone and could speak freely. He wasn't going to be the cause of Ron's separation from his family. He knew how much Ron loved his parents, and he knew how much it would hurt Ron to be parted from them, especially in anger.

Harry had always known at the back of his mind that he came second place to the rest of the Weasley's in Ron's heart, and that didn't bother him. It was natural for Ron to love his family first, and Harry didn't want to upset that. But he knew that he loved his partner too much to just lie about how he felt, especially to Ron's mother.

"I can't come this Christmas either," Harry kept his voice as level as possible, thinking desperately to find a plausible excuse, "I'm… spending Christmas with… Hagrid."

He bit down on a wince, knowing that Ron would probably see through this in a moment, and Hermione wouldn't have believed it at all. Sure enough, Ron started to frown, a dull flush taking over his ears.

"Is there some problem with spending Christmas at home?" he asked through gritted teeth, and Harry sent a desperate look to his partner, canting his head in Hermione's direction significantly. He didn't want to have a row over this; surely Ron could see it was for the best that Harry stayed at Hogwarts.

"I don't want to lie," Harry said significantly, and Ron's face cleared. He smiled easily, sagging back to half sit on the bookcase again. Hermione was looking deeply interested, and Harry wished yet again that they were having this conversation in private.

"You won't have to," Ron gave him that special smile reserved for more intimate moments, "I plan on telling mum and dad all about it when we get home."

Harry felt as if Dudley was punching him again, and sucked in a hard breath. He knew that he must have looked pretty ghastly, as Hermione closed her book and put her hand out to touch his sleeve. He shook her off angrily, glaring at Ron.

"You can't," Harry shook his head, stumbling upright and heading for the door, "I won't let you! You mustn't!"

He lurched out of the room and almost ran through the common room, bursting into the corridor beyond it and running blindly, his heart at war with his head as he tried to reconcile the loss of Ron with causing Ron's potential loss of his family.

0oo0oo0

"What the bloody hell," Ron broke off; staring at the door his partner had slammed behind him. He pulled his wand out and set a privacy seal on the still vibrating door before letting rip with a flood of language that had Hermione glaring at him, rather pink cheeked.

Ron felt betrayed, hurt that Harry was ashamed of their relationship. The Weasley's were a close family, and the thought of spending two weeks denying the way he felt about Harry in front of them made Ron feel physically ill. One, because Harry deserved to be acknowledged to the other important people in Ron's life, and two because his mother would serve him sprouts for a year when she found out for lying to them all.

He'd thought that Harry would be pleased, that he'd want to take this next step in their relationship - the public acknowledgement that would let them relax their guard around family. He glared at Hermione, who was looking at him rather askance, and sighed.

"Well, I've made a right bollocks of things," Ron sighed, "Maybe you can figure this out."

"Figure what out, Ron? If Harry doesn't want to spend Christmas with you…" Hermione trailed off at the glare Ron shot her. She was not as slow as she was pretending and Ron had always hated to be condescended to.

"Come on Hermione, I know that you've probably figured this out already," his voice was testy, and he folded his arms defensively, "But just in case I'll tell you straight out. And remember, I'm only telling you this because I want your help - I would rather have waited until after Christmas."

"Thanks!" Hermione snapped and Ron groaned under his breath. If he pissed her off she wouldn't be much help, and he was pretty sure he wouldn't be able to work this out on his own. Something had tripped one of Harry's defences, and Ron had the feeling that it was one of the conflicts between Wizard and Muggle society.

"Sorry, sorry," he apologised, "I just didn't expect Harry to do his nut like that."

"Ok," Hermione said grudgingly, "What do you want to tell me?"

"Look…um…Harry and I…well, we're a couple," Ron stared at his fellow Prefect's feet and tried not to blush. Beyond a little gasp, there was no reaction, and he looked up at her wide-eyed face.

"You're gay?"

Ron rolled his eyes and snorted with tension. To be fair she wasn't usually this slow, and Ron put the rather redundant question down to shock.

"Yes, Hermione, we're gay. We're both male and we're shagging each other. Does that cover it?" his voice was gruff and he knew it.

"There's no need to get shirty with me! It's just a shock, that's all. How long have you been…" she trailed off and made a vague gesture with her hand. Ron swallowed a snigger and straightened his face.

"This summer. We were together when we had Harry's party, but it was too soon to tell anyone. Look, Hermione, we didn't want to hurt you, and we'd have told you after we told mum and dad," Ron knew he had his pleading face on, but couldn't help it. He genuinely didn't want to hurt her, she was their best friend, but he had wanted his family to be first to know. Hermione seemed to read all this in his face, because she nodded and sat up.

"Ok," she took a breath, "I think I know why Harry reacted like that. It's a Muggle thing, and I haven't had any time to research this in the library…"

"Hermione," Ron groaned, "If this is one of those weird Muggle society versus Wizard society things then just tell me about the Muggle part of it, and I'll explain the Wizard side, ok?"

He'd learned that the Muggle born had what some would consider gaps in their education - natural consequences of being raised by Muggle parents. The Wizarding world did a lot of things differently, and sometimes these gaps caused tension between what the Muggles thought to be true and how the Wizards did things. Usually someone would point out the differences and the Muggle-born would adjust. Although Harry was not Muggle-born, he had been raised by Muggles and often had the same conflicts.

"Ok," Hermione took another deep breath, pink creeping over her face, "Just remember that Harry and I don't know how this works in the Wizard world."

"Promise."

"Well, most Muggles have a prejudice against gay people," Hermione started determinedly, not looking at Ron at all, "They think that it's… well, perverted, really. In fact, Muggle parents have been known to disown gay children, even throwing them out of the house. I think that Harry reacted to your announcement like that because he's scared that your family will disown you, or split you two up. Gay Muggles aren't allowed to marry, and most the time they're not allowed to raise children either, assuming that they manage to have any."

"That's barbaric!" Ron exclaimed, and Hermione looked up at him, bewildered, "Hermione, in the Wizard world it doesn't matter. You love who you love, and you marry who you marry - well as long as they're not your brother or sister or close relation or something… and you're telling me that Harry thinks that by telling my parents he's going to get me disowned?"

"It's possible," Hermione nodded and Ron swore under his breath, removed the privacy seal and headed out after his partner. He knew exactly where Harry would go.

0oo0oo0

It was dark in the Room of Requirement, and given that Harry was hiding rather unsuccessfully from Ron, the room was barely bigger than a cupboard.

"Lumos," Ron told his wand and spotted his white-faced partner crouching in a corner, tears streaming down his cheeks. Harry had managed to work himself into a right state over this.

"Harry you git," Ron shook his head and got down on the floor too, pulling the resistant form into his arms, "You're freezing! You're going to make yourself sick!"

"Stop it Ron," Harry muttered, but gave up the struggle and slumped unwillingly in the redheads' arms. Ron simply pulled him closer and wormed a hand under his robes and uniform to rub the small of Harry's back.

"Listen, I talked to Hermione," Ron waited out the indignant squirms, willing to be the patient one this time, "She told me about the mad Muggles, and Harry, it's not like that here."

"it's not?" the whisper was small and very sad and Ron shook his head. Harry relaxed a little into the hold, his head resting hesitantly on Ron's shoulder.

"I promise," Ron smiled, "Wizards can even marry Wizards, and the same for Witches," he continued in a quiet voice, "And besides, I won't be the first in the family. Mum walked in on Charlie and his best friend Geoffrey when they were fifteen. They broke up during their NEWT's year. The most she did to them was yell at them about using a privacy spell. No one is going to be disowned, I promise."

"You're positive?" Harry's voice was congested, and Ron's neck was getting wet from the tears. Ron nodded, rocking them a little in silence and waiting it out. Harry was very protective of Ron and his family, it stood to reason that he'd go a little mental when faced with the possibility that it would be him that caused them some kind of harm.

"Sorry," Harry wiped his face and sat up a little, "I just…"

"Went a bit bananas?" Ron supplied the end, "Don't worry, I'm used to it."

"Well, we are fruits," the tone was a little teasing, a little hesitant and Ron didn't bother to restrain his laughter, relieved when Harry joined in. He hit the door with their privacy spell and then leered in the dim light from his wand. He was relieved to see a bit of colour creeping into Harry's face.

"So do you fancy getting fresh with me?"

Harry's tongue down his throat was answer enough.

0oo0oo0

During the holidays students were allowed to leave Hogwarts in one of two ways. They could take the Hogwarts Express back to London - something that just about everyone under sixteen did - or they could use the Floo network from a grate in the Hogs Head - for a small fee. Those students who had passed their Apparate test often walked to Hogsmeade and simply Apparated home, which is what Harry and Ron planned to do. Rather than leaving Ginny to travel back on her own and then getting the Floo from the Leaky Cauldron, Mr and Mrs Weasley had sent the fee for the Hogs Head grate so that Ginny could come home directly. She would take Harry's bag with her, and then he and Ron would follow with the bags that held their Christmas presents to the Weasley's and each other.

"Ready?" Ron asked when they'd seen Ginny off and Harry hesitated. He was still worried that Ron's parents would react badly to the news, despite his partners' rather enthusiastic reassurance. Ron didn't say anything, just looked at him patiently, and Harry nodded reluctantly.

"Idiot," Ron said softly and Apparated. Harry took a deep breath and followed, the cold lump in his stomach feeling worse. He materialised in the back yard, under the large tree at the bottom of the garden. The ground was well covered with snow and he was glad that the school cloaks were so thick.

As he approached the back door he could already hear Mrs Weasley welcoming her children, and he smiled a little. It was such a happy sound, it warmed him all the way through. Mr Weasley was there as well, Harry could hear him in the background, and he took a deep breath before knocking on the kitchen door and stepping inside.

"Harry! Fancy knocking like a stranger!" Mrs Weasley scolded and bustled over to give him a hug.

"Hello Aunt Molly," Harry mumbled into her shoulder, and she patted his back affectionately. Ron was sitting at the kitchen table already, and Mr Weasley - dressed in very old and comfortable looking robes - was beside him, asking questions about the Animagus test. Ginny was sitting opposite, listening intently, and Harry took a seat silently on his friend's other side.

"We were very pleased to hear your news, Harry," Arthur leaned around Ron to say, "You two are the first Animagus in the family."

"Well go on, then," Molly waved a hand at them, "Show us!"

Ron gave Harry a rather resigned look and cleared his throat before changing into the red fox. It was rather strange to see his partner flow so smoothly into another shape. One minute Ron was sitting there in his school uniform, and the next a larger than usual fox was sitting in his chair. Arthur and Molly beamed at their youngest son while Ginny gaped. They had obeyed Professor McGonagal's restriction on changing at school, so she hadn't seen their animal forms yet.

"That is so wicked," she sighed, "Go on Harry, you too!"

"Yeah, come on," it seemed strange to hear Ron's voice from the animal in front of them, but Harry already knew an Animagus could speak in animal form - Sirius had spoken to them as Padfoot.

Harry got up and moved away from the table to avoid any accidents, flowing into the two toned wolf carefully. He sat down on the floor so as not to frighten anyone, and Ginny came over to take a closer look at him while her parents exclaimed over them both. Ginny giggled and reached out to touch Harry's ears.

"You still look like you're wearing glasses," she told him. Ron changed back to his human form and looked at his mum and dad seriously.

"There's something else we wanted to tell you," he said firmly and Harry shivered, all his worries coming back with a rush. He scrambled to his feet and changed as quickly as he could, walking to the table. He sat down rather heavily beside Ron, who didn't even glance at him.

"Harry and I are a couple."

Harry flushed as he heard Mrs Weasley draw in a sharp breath, and he bit his lip. It seemed that he had been right this time, when he had wanted so desperately to be wrong.

"Oh, but Ron…" her tone was a little anxious and Harry let his hearing fuzz out, not wanting to hear her tell her son that Harry wasn't worth keeping.

0oo0oo0

Ron knew that Harry wouldn't be able to relax until they'd told his parents the truth and his mum had a chance to fuss over them. Harry just didn't seem to understand that the Weasley's actually liked him rather a lot. His normally smart friend had missed all the clues that would have made this whole thing easier on him, such as the fact that they'd asked him to call them Aunt and Uncle, and had sent him Christmas presents before they'd even met him. Ron's letters home that first year had been full of his friendship with Harry, and his kind-hearted mother had reached out to include his friend in the usual round of Christmas gifts.

So he waited until the fuss was over about them being Animagus' and then simply broke the news, much as he had to Hermione. He could feel Harry quivering with tension beside him, and wished he could just reach out and hug his partner, but knew it would be best to wait for that until his parents had their say.

"Oh, but Ron I've put a folding bed in your room for Harry," his mother frowned, and Ron grinned at her. He knew his parents would take this in their stride, and glanced over at Harry. The grin disappeared at the white face and miserable eyes. Harry was one small step away from a full-blown panic.

"Hey, Harry, I told you it would be ok," Ron murmured and put and arm around his friend, "Harry?"

"I'll go back to Hogwarts. I knew this was a bad idea," Harry gulped and Ron tightened his grip. His mother made a startled noise and got up to add her arms to Ron's embrace. Harry flinched, burrowing into Ron for protection with a small moan, and she drew back, hurt. Ron realised that Harry wasn't following the conversation and gave his partner a little shake.

"Harry, you idiot, its ok! Mum won't hurt you," Ron muttered into the closest ear and Harry's grip on him relaxed a little. Ginny was gaping at them again, but stopped when Ron shot her a fierce look. He was relieved when his dad sent his mum to put the kettle on and moved to sit on the table at Harry's side. Arthur put a gentle hand on Harry's head and rubbed the dark hair.

"Harry," Arthur said in that fatherly 'I'm waiting, young man' tone that never failed to get a response. Sure enough, Harry sat up enough to look Arthur in the eye, and the red-haired Wizard smiled gently at him.

"I can't say I'm surprised, Molly and I knew that Ron had a bit of a crush on you years ago. You two have been so close that I knew it was only a matter of time before you took this step in your relationship. I'm a little disappointed that you thought we'd be mad…"

"Muggles have been known to disown their children for this," Ron interrupted, "Harry thought that you'd chuck us out of the house or something. It's not his fault. I tried to explain."

"Is that all this is?" Molly asked as she rejoined them and Harry nodded hesitantly. She rolled her eyes and clucked her tongue in exasperation.

"Well I never. Fancy being so closed minded that you'd disown one of your children over love!" she shook her head, "Honestly, sometimes I wonder how Muggles manage anything at all!"

She headed back to the stove to take the now shrieking kettle off the stove and make them all a cup of tea. Harry sat up properly, and Ron kept his arm around him. Colour was creeping back into his friends face, and Arthur had moved his hand to Harry's shoulder.

"You don't mind?" Harry asked and Arthur smiled. He was not a handsome man, but Arthur Weasley's smile was very heart warming.

"Actually I'm rather pleased that Ron chose someone decent. Bill's first girlfriend was a bit of a nightmare to be honest," he told them both, "Though if you repeat that…"

"We won't," Ron grinned remembering the hair that changed colour daily, and the odd smelling potions she'd left lying about, "Mum was saying that she'd set up a separate bed for you in my room, but we can just share mine if you like."

"That reminds me," Molly came back with tea and cakes, "I hope you two will be using a privacy spell, because I won't have any…shenanigans in this house!"

0oo0oo0

Tea at the Burrow was always noisy and full of good cheer, and Harry was more than ready to take part in it all. Ron's parents had accepted him, even given their approval of their relationship, which had taken rather a heavy load off Harry's shoulders. The twins had arrived in time to help set the table, and Charlie and Bill were home too, making things very squashed. No one seemed to mind, they bumped elbows and passed plates happily.

Percy sent an owl that he would join them over Christmas and Boxing Day, which seemed to please Mrs Weasley a lot. The twins weren't too impressed, but their comments seemed to go unheard by their mother. Harry was relieved; he didn't think he could take a row after the stress of the afternoon.

"We've got some good news to tell you all, too," Arthur said as they passed the pudding around.

"If you're going to tell us about Ron and Harry, don't bother," Fred interrupted.

"Yeah, we walked in on them snogging in the front room when we arrived," George added his two Knuts worth, and Ron scowled at them. Harry sighed. They'd been holding onto each other and Ron had been melting Harry's spine by rubbing the small of his back - a known weakness that his partner exploited every chance he got.

"We weren't snogging," Ron snapped, "We were just hugging mum, honestly."

"I have to say though, Harry, I think you could do better," Fred spoke over the top of his little brother with the ease of long practice. Harry grinned, his hand on Ron's leg to prevent his partner from exploding.

"Is that an offer?" Harry asked sweetly and Fred choked on his mouthful of plum pudding. George had to pound his twin on his back, and Charlie was laughing so hard that he needed Ginny to get him a glass of water to recover. Ron aimed a mock scowl at Harry who grinned back cheekily.

"Well, you'll fit right in," Bill sounded amused, and Ron sighed the sigh of a much put upon man.

"Don't encourage him!" there was a teasing undertone to the plea, and Harry shook his head. He still had a hard time believing his luck that the Weasley's actually seemed to like him. Arthur Weasley cleared his throat to regain their attention.

"As I was saying… The Ministry of Magic recently changed the curriculum at Hogwarts in order to test the students for Animagus abilities. Fudge seems to be worried that there are a large number of unregistered Animagi running around. They test at the sixth year level and our Ron has shown the ability," Arthur got the sentence out and looked relieved that he hadn't been interrupted again.

"Get out!" George looked impressed, and Ron transformed for them. Fred leaned around Harry for a better look.

"I'll get out of the way, shall I?" Harry asked him dryly, and changed into his wolf form. He heard Ron snicker beside him and flicked his partner an amused look. George had yelped in surprise, sending Ginny into gales of laughter.

"Bloody hell! Two Animagi in the family!" Bill exclaimed as Fred leaned back to look at Harry, who eyed him as if considering where to bite. He even licked very sharp teeth in a threatening manner, and Fred shivered a little. The twin reached out hesitantly to touch Harry's foreleg.

"That's impressive, Ron," Charlie told his little brother, "None of the Weasley's have managed that skill in centuries. I think the last one was only a mouse."

Harry still had a warm glow from Bill's comment and changed back to normal with a little smile on his face. It hadn't been easy to balance on that chair as a wolf and he was relieved not to have made a fool of himself by sliding off. Ron changed back too, and Mrs Weasley got up to start clearing the table. Harry stood automatically to help, missing the rather significant looks exchanged by his adoptive Aunt and Uncle.

0oo0oo0

Harry woke early on Christmas day and spent a few minutes staring at the wall opposite Ron's bed. The posters of the Chuddley Cannons were still for the moment, as the players were still asleep, propped up against each other. Ron was a warm lump at Harry's back, their fingers tangled together as usual, Ron's breath tickling the back of his neck. Harry took a deep breath of his own and Ron's grip tightened.

"Merry Christmas, mate," Ron kissed him, and Harry sighed, leaning into the touch. His partner levered himself up and kissed him properly, slipping his tongue into Harry's mouth to wrestle lightly with his own.

"Want to unwrap a present?" Harry asked when they paused for breath, and Ron snorted with laughter.

"Sure," his partner sat up and shoved the blankets back, enthusiastically 'unwrapping' Harry from his pyjamas, tickling him as he went until Harry was helpless with laughter, sprawled naked beneath him.

"Oooh, just what I wanted," Ron continued the game, his fingers wandering greedily over Harry's body, "Where do I stick the batteries?"

"Ron!" Harry spluttered and Ron laughed, reaching for the little jar they kept by the bed, slicking his fingers and moving unerringly to his goal.

"Ah, here it is," Ron purred with satisfaction and leaned over to kiss Harry breathless while he slicked his body, preparing him for Ron's 'battery'. Harry moaned and writhed into the touches, pleasure zinging through him. Ron could make him nuts with this, and his partner knew it. He pulled his legs up to his chest and felt Ron balance his body between his thighs. There was an instant of blunt, slick pressure and then …

"Perfect," Ron moaned into Harry's knee, "Just perfect."

"Are you going to lie there all day?" Harry gasped, desperate for the friction that only Ron could provide. Ron moaned again, a decidedly wicked look in his eyes.

"I was thinking about it," he confirmed and Harry clenched himself tightly around his partner. The resulting sensation had them both whimpering and gasping for air.

"Stop thinking. It's a bad habit," he panted when he could speak, "Shift your lazy arse, Weasley."

"God you're bossy," Ron complained, shifting as ordered with very pleasurable results, "Maybe I can trade you in for a quieter model?"

"You'd better not," Harry moaned, and all conversation halted as other more important sensations reported in.

The second waking of the morning was a lot stickier, but all the better for it. Harry kissed Ron thoroughly, and the redhead snuggled closer.

"You're stuck with me now, Potter," Ron promised, and Harry sighed happily before lifting his glasses enough to glance at his watch on the bedside table. They'd have to get up soon.

"Speaking of stuck…"

0oo0oo0

Percy had arrived when they emerged from their room and Ron swallowed a grimace. He'd spent enough time with his older brother to know that expression on his face meant Percy was at his most pompous. Fred and George were already in the kitchen, helping their mother make breakfast by buttering toast and making pots of tea.

"Good morning, Ron," Percy said rather formally as they entered, "And Harry, it's good to see you again."

"Good morning, Percy," Ron replied, grinning when Harry said it with him, perfectly timed. His brother looked a little startled but Ginny was there to hug them both - she always got sentimental over Christmas - and then Ron's Dad was hugging them too, just as sentimental as his daughter. They exchanged Christmas greetings with everyone else and Harry moved to help in the kitchen. Ron grinned and went to set the table before checking in the front room to see that his and Harry's gifts to the family were in place.

Breakfast was crowded and noisy, with people getting up every two minutes to fetch something for the table or move an empty dish to give everyone more room. Ron was relieved to see his partner relax a little, allowing others to do some of the work. There was nothing more irritating than having someone anxiously volunteering all the time - Harry had never picked up that habit, thank goodness.

With breakfast over, Mrs Weasley ordered her three oldest sons to wash up and tidy the kitchen before the opening of the presents, which allowed Ginny to nip upstairs to her room to collect the joint present from herself, Ron and Harry to Mr and Mrs Weasley. It had arrived last night, and she'd hidden it in the attic with the old family ghoul.

Percy was made to put the plates away, while Bill and Charlie chatted to each other about work. Ron realised that the Order hadn't been mentioned once since the holidays started, and was grateful to his parents for their discretion. Harry might seem like his old self, but he still spooked at the oddest times. The last thing he needed was to be reminded about Tom Riddle and the Death Eaters. It was bad enough to be reading about the failed hunt for them every day in the paper, though to be truthful old Riddle had gone very quiet.

Molly and Arthur Weasley settled into their usual position on the family lounge. Arthur had the family tin in his lap, and Ron grinned, pushing past Fred and George to claim a seat near the window. There was room for Harry to sit with him and they'd have a prime view of the family as they unwrapped their various presents. He pulled Harry's hand into his lap when his partner joined him, and Ginny came in a few moments later, having sent the present to the kitchen. Percy came to sit rather primly in an armchair - the twins having bagged the other lounge - and Charlie and Bill came to sprawl on the floor with Ginny.

"Right," Arthur looked at them all, "First things first, then. The annual Christmas draw."

"We draw a name out of the tin to see who'll be handing out the presents to the rest of the family," Ron whispered to Harry as his father shook the tin and held it up for his wife. She put a hand over her eyes and drew out a piece of cardboard, decorated with childish drawings and a name written in very tipsy letters.

"Everyone makes a nametag when they turn six," Ron continued, "And each year it's someone different."

"Hey Mum, we'll have to add Harry to that," Bill called, and Ron beamed at his brother in approval. Any signs of acceptance were eagerly received by his partner, stored away for later remembrance. Molly also smiled, righting the bit of card she held and holding it out so everyone could see it.

"I did that this morning," she told her oldest son, "Ginny, dear, you're Santa."

Ginny jumped up with a smile and went back out into the kitchen to retrieve the present she had stashed while Ron fished the plain card that said Harry out of the tin. He Summoned some pastilles from their place in the old chest that had always contained their childhood toys and nudged Harry into decorating the card. A few moments later, Ginny appeared in the doorway with a large screech owl on her shoulder, and Mr and Mrs Weasley exclaimed in surprise. She put the owl on her mothers' knee and smiled at them while Ron explained and Harry drew a snitch with careful concentration.

"Errol's getting on a bit, mum, and Ginny, Harry and I thought that he could retire."

Mrs Weasley unrolled the birds' documents and smiled. Ron had been complaining about Errol for years, and she had discussed retiring him with her husband only a few weeks ago. New owls were expensive, and her children must have saved all term for this.

"This is wonderful," she told them, reading the certificates through. They contained the owls pedigree and information about how far the owl had progressed in its training.

"Very thoughtful," Arthur agreed, "We'll have to name it - something beginning with 'F'."

Harry looked up, confused. Bill grinned and offered an explanation for the family tradition for the newest member.

"Mum and Dad have been naming their birds alphabetically. It started at Hogwarts - they each had an owl, called Agnes and Basil. It was just a coincidence at the time, but someone teased them about it and the idea stuck. When they got married they were given an owl, which they called Corinne. She was killed by Death Eaters, and so was her successor Duncan. Then came Errol, and now…"

"Flynn?" Charlie suggested, and his mothers face lit up with approval.

"Flynn it is!"

Harry grinned and started tracing a border of broomsticks around his name card. His shoulder and arm were pressed into Ron's side, giving the redhead a strong sense of peace.

0oo0oo0

Hermione was back at the school by the time Harry, Ron and Ginny trudged up through the snow from Hogsmeade. The Hogwarts Express wasn't due for another few hours, and only two Gryffindor students had stayed at school this year, so they practically had the common room to themselves. The four friends spent some time swapping Christmas stories, and then they retired to Harry and Ron's room at Hermione's suggestion for a more private conversation. Harry put the privacy spell on the door and wondered if this was where Hermione told them she didn't want to be friends with a couple of fags.

She was rather red in the face and fidgeted with her skirt a bit, pleating the hem and not looking anyone in the eye. That was so unlike her that Harry ended up gripping the edge of their bookcase in order to control his urge to just yell at her to tell them what she was thinking.

"Spit it out Hermione," Ron said good-naturedly, picking Harry's hand up off the bookcase where both boys were leaning. Ginny had gotten used to seeing this and merely rolled her eyes. The twins had a field day with the mannerism - both boys could be found at any moment holding hands, their fingers rubbing and tangling together.

Harry used the grip to tell Ron his fears - something that was getting easier to do as they slowly drew closer together. Ron's response was to tighten his grip. Neither one of them gave a second thought to the communication, Harry had assumed it was something all Wizards or Witches did with their partners, and it hadn't yet occurred to Ron that the ability was outside of the norm.

"Well, I wanted to say that I'm still your friend," she got it out in a rather squeaky rush, "I know that Muggles think that it's… well you know, Harry … but I don't. I just thought you should know…"

"Thanks Hermione," Harry interrupted, his relief coursing up Ron's arm, "That means a lot to us both."

"Yeah," Ron seconded the notion gamely, "That's… really nice of you."

Ginny rolled her eyes and reached over to pat Hermione's arm. Harry's eyes narrowed. He'd seen that look on his friends face before and it never boded well for any male in the vicinity. On the other hand it was a positive sign that Hermione's words were sincere. She wasn't just saying what she thought they wanted to hear. And Ginny had been comfortable with them ever since Christmas.

"Ignore them, Hermione," she advised, "For all the hand holding they do they're still the same Ron and Harry we know and love."

"Inept," Hermione sniffed, sneaking a grin at her co-conspirator, "Emotionally stunted."

"Boys," Ginny added and Ron growled at her half-heartedly. Harry shook his head. The past few months had been chaotic - from his departure from the Dursley's to the budding relationship with his best friend, culminating in the acceptance of that relationship by a wonderful family. Voldemort was still a heavy weight around Harry's neck, but for the first time since he'd learned about the Dark Wizard, Harry felt like he might be able to defeat his enemy.

0oo0oo0


	5. 2nd term, sixth year

****

Further warnings: by now this could probably be called an AU if that would make anyone feel better. And forgive me for the Quidditch match - I'm the shape of a Quaffle and sport just ain't my thing! Also, by now you'll have realised that my Harry ain't a happy carefree lad - though he has his moments. If this is a problem for you, back out gracefully now. There's an exit to the left.

****

Sympathetic Magic: Part Three - Second Term, Sixth Year

Mondays started with double Charms, followed by double Transfiguration, Herbology, and Divination. As Harry quite enjoyed Charms and Transfiguration now that he was allowed to participate once more, he found himself eager to get to classes on a Monday. Ron had become used to his partners fidgeting and would often send a soothing message along Harry's fingers in an effort to calm him down. It rarely worked, but Harry loved him for it anyway.

"Ron! Look at this!" Seamus had beaten them to the Great Hall that morning and was waving a paper in their faces as they walked to their usual seats. Harry paid the owl that was waiting by their plates and Ron snatched the paper from his hand before he could unroll it.

"I'll just give that to you then, shall I?" Harry asked dryly and started piling bacon and eggs onto toast, adding a few chipolatas to their shared plate as well. He hated kippers, and if Ron fancied some he'd let the redhead dish up his own. Ron had flattened the paper out and was pouring over the front page with a very intent look.

"What's up then?" Harry asked, elbowing his friend to one side so he could see the headlines too.

'Bagman fails to bag Quidditch pitches!' the words took up the top half of the page, and Ludo Bagman could be seen underneath running into a house and slamming the front door firmly. A quick perusal of the page informed Harry that the head of Magical Games and Sports had somehow managed to reveal the sites of several Quidditch pitches to a group of Muggles, who were now using them to play football. Bagman had thought that he might be able to generate a bit of money by leasing the pitches to the Muggles, and holding the Quidditch games there at night. The teams affected were furious, and it was also looking bad for the International league, as there were several teams coming over from Australia, New Zealand, and Fiji in order to participate in the Seven League Cup. Ireland, Wales, England and Scotland were also competing, and though it was not their pitches that were affected, the visiting teams had nowhere to practice, and therefore nowhere to stay.

The second page was full of recrimination and thinly veiled accusations - apparently Bagman was still having some difficulty with goblins over a sum of money owed - as well as a rather terse statement from the three countries affected that they would continue to train for the event in the spirit of goodwill, trusting that someone 'more competent' would resolve the situation.

"They've got a point," Harry mused, turning to the sports section to check what the local teams made of the situation. The Chuddley Cannons were offering their facilities - thankfully they weren't one of the teams that Bagman had sold out, or Ron would have been on the warpath.

"Probably on top of their heads," Ron agreed gloomily, and Harry choked on his mouthful of toast. Ron had to haul him up off the bench, still wheezing, in order to get to Charms on time.

Professor Flitwick was standing on his usual pile of books, waiting for them all to enter and seat themselves. The board behind him contained a rather complex looking series of charms, which would have to be performed in quick succession in order to get the right results.

"Today we are going to discuss Sympathetic Magic!" Flitwick said in his usual squeaky voice, "Or… the ability to work magic in close order! True Sympathetic Magic is rare in the Wizarding world, and is often only achieved by truly mated life partners! For further information on the nature of true Sympathetic Magic I recommend a highly informative book written by Frederick Wimplehorn and Alastor Chitwick called 'Sympathetic Magic - a Partnership of the Heart'. Let me just say that a true partnership works by merging the knowledge and magical strength of the partners into a common well of magic that each partner may tap at will."

Hermione's hand was up, and Flitwick gave her an understanding little smile. Miss Granger's hand was always up, and the question could usually be anticipated with a little thought on the part of the teacher.

"Yes Miss Granger, the book is in the library," he nodded and Hermione's hand went down, her cheeks a little pink. Harry grinned - if there was any chance of gaining further knowledge then Hermione was there.

"Now, today we are going to work on casting a variety of charms that require us to work closely together. They will require you to time your actions with your partner most precisely in order to achieve your goal. We will be working with musical instruments - mainly percussion - to produce a syncopated beat, and eventually a melody," Professor Flitwick gestured to the board behind him, and instructed everyone to copy down the charms. He then made them all choose a coloured ball from a hat to pick their partners. Harry was paired with Neville, and Ron was paired with Hermione.

The rhythm that Neville and Harry were given to play wasn't too hard, but the tempo was very quick, which had Neville in a fluster, and pushed Harry's abilities to the limits. After the third failed attempt Harry suggested they slow the tempo down in order to get the order of casting and timing right. He could hear Ron and Hermione in the background, squabbling as they usually did when forced to work closely together. There was just something about their personalities that set them off, sometimes to Harry's amusement, but more often to his discomfort.

By the end of the lesson Harry and Neville had mastered the timing and were almost on tempo. They were one of only four pairs that had managed to get that far - Crabbe's pair for example were still trying to charm the instruments into movement, and Malfoy's pair had suffered some kind of explosion about halfway through the lesson. Hermione and Ron had managed to get their rhythm completed, but were having trouble with the timing.

"That was wicked!" Neville enthused on the way to Transfigurations, "We make a great team Harry!"

"Yeah, Nev," Harry grinned. It was hard not to respond to the other boys' enthusiasm - very rarely did Neville come in at the top of anything except Herbology, where he was tying neck and neck with Hermione, "We work well together."

Ron rolled his eyes but anything he was about to say was lost when Hermione elbowed him in the ribs and pointed at the student notice board in the main foyer. There was a bright poster - a lurid mix of pink and red hearts overlapping each other - announcing the Valentines Ball at Hogsmeade. Sixth and seventh years were allowed to attend this Ball, which was held traditionally on a Friday night.

"Hey," Ron protested, rubbing his ribs resentfully, "Not so hard, Hermione."

"It's the Valentines Ball," Hermione ignored the complaint and Harry moved over to his partner sympathetically. Ron rolled his eyes again. The poster was not only bright, but also written in a very large script.

"Yes, thank you Hermione, I can read," he replied, "What's the big deal?"

"We're allowed to go this year," she told him crossly, "It's supposed to be really good."

Harry frowned and then ushered them all up the stairs. He had a bad feeling about this. He wasn't going to go with a girl to the Ball - that would be disrespectful to Ron - but neither could he take his partner to the Ball. They just weren't ready to announce their status to the entire student body, and Harry had a vague idea that to do so would result in trouble with the teachers anyway. Girls like Lavender Brown and the Patil twins loved this kind of romantic thing, and they were bound to blow the whole Ball out of proportion.

"Hurry up!" Professor McGonagal called from her open doorway and Harry pushed all thoughts of the ball aside.

0o0o0o0

"So, Harry," despite his friends best attempts, they'd gotten pinned by Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil just by Wrestler on their way inside after tea. Ron stayed close to his partner, offering moral support. The girls were always after Harry, which just showed their good taste as far as Ron was concerned. Too bad they didn't know Harry was already permanently taken.

"Who are you going to take to the Ball next week?" Parvati asked while Lavender giggled and smiled coyly. Ron thought she looked rather daft like that but wasn't stupid enough to tell her that. The last thing he needed was to set those two on their wrong sides. Harry had taken Parvati to the Yuletide Ball in the fourth year, and Ron had squired her twin sister Padma. Neither girl had been too happy with their dates, as neither boy was interested in dancing with them. They'd spent the night sitting together talking to friends. Looking back on the night, Ron thought he should have seen that for the clue it obviously was.

"I'm not planning to take anyone, Parvati," Harry replied, "So if you get an offer I suggest you take it. Don't wait for me or anything."

The girls scowled and flounced into the common room. Ron put a hand on Harry to make him wait for a moment - give them time to get clear, or at least sit down where they wouldn't be able to ambush the partners again.

"I wouldn't take that young flapper either, General," Wrestler spoke up before Ron could, and Harry laughed. Ron grinned at the gargoyle. It was much more entertaining than the Fat Lady had been.

"You don't call them that to their faces do you?" Ron asked in admiration. Wrestler's laugh sounded like a small landslip, and Ron patted its head lightly before giving his name and stepping inside. Hermione was waiting for them with a rather grim look on her face, and she followed them into their room, setting the privacy spell herself while the teens put their bags under the hooks and pulled out their homework for this evening.

"What's up Hermione?" Ron asked as Harry pulled a few books off the shelves and Hermione paced in the small space between the door and the bookcase, "Look, sit down or something - you're making me dizzy."

"I can't believe you turned down Parvati and Lavender!" Hermione burst out, plopping into the other chair and glaring at them; "You can't go around turning down dates to the Ball!"

"Why not?" Ron asked, glancing at Harry. His friend was frowning a little, obviously following Hermione's train of thought. His partner was one of the most intuitive Wizards that Ron had ever encountered, with the exception of a Great-Aunt by marriage who was highly skilled in Divination.

"Because there'll be talk!" Hermione waved her arms in emphasis, and Harry sighed. It was a rather sad and defeated sigh, that Ron didn't like the sound of one bit.

"Unless you want to declare that we're only interested in taking each other to the Ball, we'll be bugged by the girls in our House to take them," he said softly, coming to lean on Ron's chair. Ron reached up and took Harry's hand, feeling his tension, and willingness to claim Ron in front of the whole school if that was what Ron wanted.

"We can't do that, Harry. As much as I'd love to claim you in front of everyone, the school would have to separate us - maybe even suspend one of us. You know we're not allowed to do what we've been doing, even though everyone else does it," Ron let his fingers show Harry how sad he was that it couldn't happen right now, "On our last day here I'll snog you in the middle of the Great Hall, but…"

Harry was chuckling, shaking his head. There was a very soft look in his eyes that warmed Ron clean through, and Hermione's throat clearing startled them both.

"Look, can't you just agree to take a couple of girls?" she pushed, "I mean, you wouldn't have to do anything other than dance with them a few times."

"I can't believe you'd suggest that, Hermione," Ron frowned at her, "It's disrespectful to Harry for me to lie and take some girl I don't fancy, and don't want to spend time with either. Besides, how would you feel if your date danced with you once and then dumped you to sit with his best mate?"

"That's why neither of us asked you to go with one of us," Harry added, "We'll go along as singles, but we're not going to lie to some girl about us dating them. I'm sorry Hermione, but I won't be disloyal to Ron. He's all I've got."

Hermione looked at the grip they had on each other and brushed a few tears from her eyes, before jumping up to hug them both rather violently. Ron's protests were muffled in a portion of Hermione that he preferred not to touch, look at, or think about.

"We'll think of something," Hermione sniffled, letting them go, "And Harry…you've got me too."

She was unsealing the door and bustling out before either of them could reply, and Ron shook his head in exasperation. He aimed his wand at the door and it shut and sealed itself again. He pulled his partner into his lap and Harry sighed, resting his head against Ron's.

"Don't worry mate," Ron patted Harry's hip where his hands were comfortably perched, "I know how you feel."

"It's not fair," Harry mumbled into his hair, "I want to be with you."

"You are," Ron chuckled, "I was serious about snogging you in front of the school on our last day."

"No groping," Harry replied firmly, obviously remembering previous kissing sessions, and Ron laughed, squeezing his partner before letting go.

"Fine, be that way. Now get off, my legs are going to sleep."

0o0o0o0

Harry knew that Hermione wouldn't be happy to just let the situation lie, but there was a ready solution that he literally stumbled over in the owlry the next morning. He had been reminded by all the fuss that Valentines Day was rapidly approaching, and he'd wanted to get something for Ron. There was an ad in the Daily Prophet that promised to deliver to the Valentine of your choice a block of Honeydukes Best Chocolate, and a red rose by owl, with a message that the sender was supposed to provide.

Harry had never really had any inclination to participate in the hysterics that seemed to accompany each Valentines day - at least this year they wouldn't have singing dwarves tackling people and embarrassing them in the halls - but he knew that he could mortify his partner with a sappy anonymous note and flowers. The idea had been niggling at him all day and he'd climbed up to the owlry with his request - sent under a false name just in case the company decided to attach a name somewhere anyway.

He'd pushed the door to the owlry open and walked in on Susan Bones and Hannah Abbot attached to each other at the lips. Susan's hand was inside the moaning Hannah's open blouse, and they were both too involved to notice Harry straight away. He cleared his throat loudly, his eyes politely averted as they exclaimed, jumped apart and adjusted their clothes rather quickly.

"Sorry, girls," Harry apologised, "I just needed to send an owl."

"Obviously," Susan snapped, waving her hands at the owls on the rafters above them. Harry grimaced while Hannah stared at the floor, her face very red and what looked like the start of tears in her eyes.

"I suppose this is going to be all over the school by breakfast," Susan continued, as Hedwig fluttered to Harry's shoulder. He stroked her white feathers, concentrating on her for a moment before facing the two Hufflepuff girls. Susan was usually so even tempered - getting caught like this would be a major embarrassment to them both, hence the temper.

"No it won't," he said honestly, "You know I wouldn't spread tales, Susan. Don't be like that."

"Sus," Hannah put her hand on the other girl's shoulder, "Harry's not a gossip."

Susan stared at the ground, biting her lip. The solution to his problem with the Valentines Ball hit Harry then and he grinned. He'd be able to reassure them and get himself and Ron out of a spot as well. Lavender and Parvati were still asking, apparently because Hermione had mentioned how shy Harry really was in an effort to explain away his still dateless state.

"Look, you can solve a problem for me, and get some blackmail material of your own in the bargain," Harry told them both and waited until they were looking at him to continue, "You see Ron and I are in the same boat, and with the Valentine Ball coming up we're in a bit of a spot. You know how everyone expects us to pair up for the dance. You two could come to the Ball with us, just as a group of friends, but everyone else would think we were dating. That way we can all go with someone important to us and not get hassled about it."

Susan had started grinning early into his offer and Hannah was clutching her girlfriends' hand rather tightly by the end. Harry felt a moment of relief that neither of them were going to hex him for suggesting it.

"Yes!" Hannah bounced on her toes, "That's perfect Sus! That way we know going in that there won't be any broken hearts or hard feelings!"

"Ok," Susan nodded, "Will Ron play along?"

"Sure he will," Harry stated confidently. The girls went down to their common room in a much better frame of mind, leaving Harry to send one of the school owls on his message, producing a second one for Hedwig to take as a consolation. It was only the weekly letter the Weasley's sent back to their parents, and Harry had included a note at the bottom, answering Mrs Weasley's questions to him.

It wasn't until he got back to his dorm that Harry realised that he had just spoken for Ron without consulting with him first. Harry was fairly sure that his partner wouldn't mind, but a small part of him - the part that was still waiting to be sent back to the Dursley's - said that he was heading for a fight. He had worked himself into a right state by the time Ron came in from supervising prep with the first and second years.

His friend only needed a single glance to tell that there was something bothering him, and Ron came to put his arms around Harry where he was sitting huddled on the end of their bed. Harry leaned into him, explaining what he'd seen in the owlry and the girls' acceptance of his offer.

"Quick thinking," Ron praised him, "We can get them a flower or something each and the four of us can go and have a good time without tipping anyone off."

"I spoke for you," Harry said tentatively, and Ron shook his head. This was obvious to him, therefore it would have to be explained to his partner.

"You spoke for us."

0o0o0o0

Ron was woken on Valentines Day by a warm mouth in a very intimate place. One thing led to another, and by the time they woke again - and he knew his partner would be sitting a little carefully this morning as the residual ache dispersed - they were almost late. They completed their morning ablutions in a rush, and Hermione gave them a long look when they reached the breakfast table. She didn't get a chance to say anything as a large number of pink owls - the Valentines day ads had been very large - entered the Hall and started landing on the tables in front of their assigned person. Hermione's owl was rather insistent, and also bright green, which had several people craning their necks to see what she had got.

Ron grinned - he had talked to Fred and George about this, and it looked like they'd taken the idea and run with it. The owl had a bouquet of flowers that changed colours and sung 'Happy Valentine to you!' to the birthday song when she reached for them. There was also a box of canary creams for her as well. Hermione's wasn't the only oddly coloured owl, and Harry's congratulations on his idea rippled up his wrist.

Then a pink owl spotted Ron and landed neatly in front of him, staring at him intently until he fumbled the small box and rose out of its harness. There was a note on the box from his 'secret Valentine' and he shot a dirty look at his snickering partner. Lavender and Parvati were already asking him rather shrilly who had sent him such a pretty rose. The two girls had not forgiven them for refusing their invitations to the Ball, and there was a malicious edge to the questions.

/You sod/ he told his now sniggering partner, who shook his head helplessly and took a chocolate when it was offered him. Hermione was glaring at them again, but this time for her bright green Valentine, as the note that came with it proclaimed who had sent it.

They finished breakfast quickly - Ron hit Harry with his rose when his partner asked rather innocently who his Valentine was from - and headed to Care of Magical Creatures. Hagrid made the girls who were wearing flowers in their hair or buttonholes take them off, lest the creatures they were studying attack them for the food, and everyone settled into the pattern of lessons and work.

Flitwick had them demonstrate their close order spell casting to the class, and McGonagal was working on their abilities to magically expand the spaces inside matchboxes. The last class of the day was Divination, and Professor Trelawny had them working further with the Tarot, which Harry found very easy, despite her attempts to make every reading he did indicate that he would die an early death. The Auror that was teaching them Defence Against the Dark Arts had them duelling with each other in groups, making them battle each other and a few Dark Creatures as well.

They escaped from that very draining lesson and went to prepare for their Ball in Hogsmeade. Ron and Harry both needed to shave as they'd skipped that this morning to save time. Hermione had disappeared to work on her toilette as well, and Harry hoped she was going to do something with her hair similar to the way she'd worn it to the Yuletide Ball. The simple French knot had been flattering - much more attractive than the elaborate braids and ringlets that some of the other girls came up with. Hedwig had fetched the flowers - a simple rose with a few green leaves in a small holder that could be pinned to formal robes - at lunch time, so once they'd bathed and changed Harry and Ron walked back out to the common room to wait for Hermione and her date Neville.

Susan and Hannah had both chosen to wear their hair in a simple style, and were pleased with the flowers that their 'dates' presented them with. That was as romantic as things got though, they walked down in a mixed group with Hermione and Neville, and sat together at a table for the supper. All four Heads of House were present, and if Snape cast a bit of a pall over the evening, Professor Flitwick more than cheered things up.

The music started with pudding, and Ron and Harry offered to dance with Susan and Hannah. The first one was a slow one, then something lively that let them dance as a foursome. They retired back to the table after that, and if the girls wandered off for a moment and came back flushed and clingy they paid no attention.

0o0o0o0

Hermione came and sat down with them as Neville went to fetch a round of drinks after their last dance. She had accepted that Ron and Harry weren't going to explain why it was all right to date the two girls from Hufflepuff, though she had her suspicions. The dance was well under way by now and the fairy ornaments were over their initial shyness, fluttering among the dancers, hoping to be admired.

"Having fun, Hermione?" Harry asked lazily, watching Malfoy trying to steer Millicent Bulstrode through a complicated dance step and almost tripping over the train of her robe. Ron's snickers indicated that he'd seen it too, and Harry sent his partner an amused look.

"Yes thank you Harry, Neville's a wonderful dancer," Hermione smiled up at her escort for the evening and Neville flushed a little as he sat down, passing the bottles of butter beer around the table.

"Gran taught me to dance," he revealed and Harry felt a moment of envy. Neville's family understood and accepted magical abilities, so when he'd been orphaned people who didn't hate him for his magic had raised him. If only the Dursley's… Harry shook his head and Ron's fingers soothed him rather absently.

"What's wrong?" he asked aloud. It wasn't like Ron to be distracted in their finger talk. They usually paid attention to the finger talk and replied absent-mindedly to the verbal cues they were being given. Ron was staring over at the fireplace, a slight frown on his face.

"There's something… you all brought your wands, didn't you?" he asked suddenly, his fingers telegraphing his suspicion that someone had travelled down the chimney. Susan and Hannah looked rather startled, but Neville and Hermione straightened up and looked around alertly. All four Gryffindors had their wands out discreetly and Susan began to draw hers.

"Of course," Hannah replied, "Why?"

She was answered by a voice roaring an all too familiar curse, sending a fireball straight into the chandelier. Hermione and Neville hit it with a freezing charm, and Harry and Ron stood to levitate it until the people on the dance floor could get out from under. Hannah whipped her wand out too, as had the teachers, and everyone ducked as curses started flying in all directions.

"Evacuate the dance hall!" Snape roared over the noise, lifting several curses off the Slytherin students who were collapsed in the corner and gesturing to them curtly. Professor Sprout was at the main door, attempting to unseal it.

"Chameleon counter charm!" Harry yelled to his fellow Gryffindors, and the charm was sent whizzing out into the room. It failed to hit their targets and Ron threw them both to the ground to duck a bloodletting curse.

"We can't reveal what we can't target!" Lee shouted over the noise. The Mayor of Hogsmeade took it upon himself to blow a large hole in the wall to create an exit point as the doors remained sealed. Sprout turned and started ushering the students and villagers near her to the new 'door'.

Ron and Harry dragged themselves back up and winced as Professor McGonagal sent their table flying through the air towards one of the areas that seemed to be generating hexes. The table splintered spectacularly, and they cast their protection spell over the people nearest.

Professor Flitwick had gone to the aid of the village band, which was being attacked by their own instruments, and Snape was exchanging hexes and curses with an invisible opponent. The members of his House were running past their Master, heading for the exit with several of the villagers. With their cover gone - most of the furniture was on fire or running after the dancers - the Gryffindor students were casting their shields all over the room. Harry and Ron's grip was extremely tight, their fingers flexing constantly as they relayed information and suggested courses of action. Without their realising it a red/gold sphere had formed around them, protecting them from the many curses that were headed their way.

One of the instruments that Flitwick was attempting to control exploded, knocking him out and sending him hurtling across the room. The partners Summoned him to their position and then gave the unconscious body to Hermione and Neville to take out through the wall. Ron suggested a course of action to Harry, who wasn't best pleased with the idea, but had to agree it had merit.

"Serpensortia!" Harry pointed his wand at the ground, and from the tip poured a very large boa constrictor. It coiled at their feet and Harry focussed on it, leaving their defence to Ron for a moment.

"Seek, find, bind, go," Harry hissed, feeling Ron's unease at the Parseltongue that dripped from his partners lips. The constrictor looked around the room and then slithered away.

"Potter!" Snape yelled and performed the same spell, sending a python towards them. Harry commanded it to do the same as his boa and then turned his attention to maintaining their shield while Ron defended Hermione and Neville's retreat. Malfoy hesitated near the hole in the wall and then sent a cobra towards Harry before ducking outside to retreat with his Housemates. Harry sent it on its way just as there was a hoarse scream from nearby.

The boa had wrapped itself very firmly around someone, who was struggling wildly, staggering past an unfortunate chain of fairies that had caught fire. His grip told Ron what they needed to do, and they turned as one, ignoring the hexes that continued to bounce off their shield.

"Chameleon reverso!" Ron roared, and a white masked Death Eater appeared, struggling mightily with the boa. Harry grinned in relief that the counter charm worked and aimed his own wand.

"Imobulous corpus," he sent the spell at their enemy, and the man inside the snake froze, not even his eyes moving as the full body bind took control of him. He would be able to breathe as long as he didn't struggle too hard, and Harry shored up their shield once more, while Ron cast a sealing charm on the fireplace. The boa slithered free and turned to survey the room again.

The wall near the door exploded, and Professors Snape and Sprout went down in a wild tangle. When the dust cleared, Snape was left holding the injured Head of Hufflepuff. He gave Ron and Harry a searching look, and the partners gestured for him to get out. The Head of Slytherin was limping badly as he headed for the exit, Sprout cradled in his arms.

"Get out boys!" he ordered, "Leave now!"

"Yes sir!" Ron called, sweeping the area for any further sign of their attackers or their fellow students. Harry confirmed that they and their own Head of House were the last there, and Ron called for her to leave. She nodded, following Snape to the exit, strangely accepting of taking orders from her students. The python grabbed its own prey, and once more the partners revealed and froze their opponent. Professor McGonagal waited by the exit, and seeing that they had two men captured she Summoned them to her, shoving them outside.

"Potter! Weasley! There are Aurors outside to deal with the last few!" she yelled in her most authoritarian tone, and they moved without thought. There was still at least one more person in here with them, but Harry wasn't willing to risk Ron's life to capture them. Malfoy's cobra was still lurking in the heat and smoke - with a bit of luck it would bite the third man.

McGonagal ducked a nasty bloodletting curse and Harry sent a shield her way, leaving Ron to maintain their own. His actions were not quick enough and the wall collapsed under the onslaught of curses, already weakened by the gaping holes in it. She was trapped under the rubble, her hand pinned in place by a heavy piece of masonry, an unstable pile of rubble surrounding her like a cage.

"Professor! Transform!" Ron yelled and Harry scooped up the very battered cat that took her place, tucking it into his badly torn dress robes carefully. Ron moved around so he was standing pressed against Harry's back, one arm around his waist. Their fingers remained tangled together as they fought off the flames and curses heading their way. He was exhausted, and could tell Ron was too from the harsh pants for breath that were flowing over his shoulder.

"We need to open the door, a window, anything!" Harry coughed. Ron leaned into his back heavily for a moment, drawing strength from their contact before turning slightly and blasting at the doors. The heavy oak simply disintegrated and Harry stumbled forward, an unpleasant whine starting in his ears as the shield began to fail. One or the both of them had maintained it constantly for the last ten minutes, and the strain was telling on them heavily.

The partnership had almost made it to the door when a high-pitched scream announced the capture of another assailant. Harry turned and spotted the cobra attached to what could only be someone's arm. Ron groaned softly, but raised his wand, sending the revealing charm into the smoke, followed closely by Harry's body binding curse. They staggered through the door, their shield badly discoloured, finally giving way as they escaped the last of the heat and smoke.

Strong hands steadied Harry, and he looked up into the dark eyes of Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt. Ron was plastered to his back, trembling violently, his weakened fingers telling Harry he wouldn't be able to stand up much longer. Kingsley was staring at Harry, his lips moving as he asked some question.

"There's at least one still in there," Harry hoped this answered the Auror, "I think we got him with the revealer and body bind, if not there's a snake attached to his arm. It was conjured, so you can destroy it."

Kingsley turned his head and Harry grunted, twisting away to catch his fainting partner. The effort was too much and he felt the black creeping around his vision surge over him. His last thought was for the Professor he still carried in his robes - he hoped he didn't land on her.

0o0o0o0

Ron felt the cool sheets of the hospital wing cradling his very sore and very tired body and sighed as he swum back to consciousness. The events of last night were still vivid in his mind, including the way it felt to be in total synchronisation with his partner. He felt a slight grin tugging at his lips - the connection with Harry had been almost as vital as the one they forged during their lovemaking. He forced heavy eyes open and spotted Ginny sitting beside his bed, a rather worried expression on her face.

"Well at least you're in a good mood," she gestured to his grin and he rolled his eyes slowly, not wanting to do anything to energetic for the next year or so. A thought occurred to him and he raised his eyebrows at Ginny in a questioning manner.

"Everyone's fine," she replied, "You two are the only students in here, and Professors Flitwick, Sprout and Snape are already back in their own rooms. Professor McGonagal is in one of the private rooms - but Madam Pomfrey says she'll be good as new by Monday. Harry's in the bed behind me - he's still asleep. It's Saturday morning - just after breakfast. Hermione said she'll come and visit you soon - she had to go to the library."

Ron stretched his eyesight a little and sighed in relief when he saw his sleeping partner's peaceful face. Ron had learned that if Harry was in pain when he went to sleep there was always a slight frown worn upon his brow. Madam Pomfrey bustled over and took his pulse, before waving her wand over him and then giving him a pepper up potion. Ron sat up with the steam coming out of his ears and attacked the breakfast tray Ginny had fetched for him with enthusiasm.

"Did the Daily Prophet get hold of this one?" he asked through a mouthful of kippers and Ginny grimaced but nodded. He took the hint and swallowed before asking what the paper had said and how accurate they were.

"Well, they were pretty accurate," Ginny sighed, "I mean, they got most things right, although the Mayor of Hogsmeade is taking credit for catching two of the Death Eaters single handed and without a wand. There's also a mention of the attack that was made last term - although they were completely wrong about most of it. The third page had this big story about Hogwarts being under attack and Fudge is calling for Aurors to be put in here to patrol the halls and monitor the teachers and students closely."

"He's probably still worried that Professor Dumbledore is trying to raise an army against him."

The comment was very soft, but Ron felt a lot better for hearing it. Harry's eyes were open and he was looking up at the ceiling, though Ron knew he probably couldn't see it without his glasses. Ginny moved over to Harry's beside cabinet and picked up his glasses, unfolding them and leaning over gingerly to put them on his face. Ron stifled a laugh at the surprised expression on Harry's face and chose to respond to his partners' comments.

"At least he didn't suggest Dementors," he commiserated, "And it won't be so bad if we have a few Aurors around the castle - then maybe we'll be able to get some work done instead of spending all our time here."

"Don't count on it," Hermione said darkly from the doorway. She went and kissed Harry on the cheek and then stepped back for Madam Pomfrey. She walked around to give Ron a hug, which he received rather uncomfortably. He'd never been fond of public displays of affection, no matter who was giving them out. He was grateful that Harry felt the same way - though if his partner had wanted to be openly affectionate, Ron would have tried.

"What makes you say that?" Ron asked as Hermione sat on the end of his bed. She sighed, shaking her head at him, and he felt the familiar rush of frustration that she always seemed to invoke in him.

"Because Fudge will choose the Aurors he thinks will spy for him. It will be like having Umbridge's Inquisitorial Squad back - only this time it will be fully trained adults," she told him tersely. Harry was sitting up by now with steam pouring out of his ears, and Dobby had appeared with his breakfast tray. Ron waited until Harry had finished reassuring the house elf and had fended off enquiries as to his own health before responding to Hermione.

"Aurors are independent of the Minister for Magic," he told her firmly, "Their charter was set up to be that way so no one with a fancy for power could get into office and turn us into a dictatorship. Any Auror caught spying for the Minister would be sacked, and Fudge would lose his office."

"We'd have to catch them first," Ginny pointed out and Harry put down the piece of toast he'd been nibbling on.

"No we won't, because it won't happen," he told them all, "Professor Dumbledore won't allow the Ministry to interfere like that again - last year was a nightmare for everyone and he won't put us through that again."

Ron smiled, his fears relieved. Harry had a lot of faith in the Headmaster, despite all he'd been through over the years, and he was very rarely wrong about the important things. The doors opened again and Hannah and Susan entered, nodding when Madam Pomfrey warned them they could only stay a few minutes.

"Are you two ok?" Hannah asked, leaning at the bottom of Harry's bed. Harry told them they were fine, and Ron smiled when they looked to him for corroboration.

"Well, you've got the perfect excuse to dump us after last night - look what happens when we take you out," he said cheerfully and Susan laughed at him.

"It was a smashing time - well, right up until the actual smashing," she agreed and Hannah giggled. Harry grinned over at Ron.

"You can't say you're dull when I take you out," the black haired boy winked solemnly at his partner, "We get to see all the hottest things."

"Yeah, but usually that doesn't refer to balls of fire heading right for me," Ron mock complained, glad that they were still alive and unhurt. Before the banter could get any further, Professor Flitwick entered. He had a bandage perched jauntily across his forehead, but his energetic, springing walk was as bouncy as ever. Professor Dumbledore was a few steps behind him, and everyone straightened up politely, with Harry and Ron pushing their breakfast trays away.

"You haven't finished Harry," Hermione said sharply, and Ron glanced over. His partner had managed half a slice of toast, not touching the eggs or chipolatas that Dobby had cooked for him, and also leaving the pumpkin juice and cup of tea. Ron and Hermione were still vigilant over Harry's meals - the dark haired boy was still too thin.

"Mr Potter can finish his breakfast while we speak to him and Mr Weasley," Professor Dumbledore said firmly, "I'm afraid I must beg all of your pardon and ask that you allow us to speak privately. Madam Pomfrey has assured me that the boys will be released after dinner."

The girls said their goodbyes and left, Hermione casting a vaguely longing look over her shoulder. Ron had the feeling that she knew what they were about to discuss and wished to stay.

0o0o0o0

Harry had clung to the sound of Ron's voice at first, relieved that his partner was alive and apparently unhurt. Then what Ginny and her brother were discussing sunk in and Harry had added his voice to their conversation. Hermione and their erstwhile dates had been a welcome distraction from his lack of appetite, until Professors Dumbledore and Flitwick appeared.

He didn't want to eat - sure that Dumbledore was about to split him and Ron up, sending one of them to stay in Ravenclaw for the rest of their schooling. He knew that the teachers hadn't missed the way he and Ron had connected last night, and didn't really expect that his Headmaster would bend the rules for the Boy-Who-Lived. All he really wanted was to cuddle up somewhere warm and peaceful with Ron, locking them away from the outside world for a while.

"Now boys," Flitwick took Ginny's empty chair while Dumbledore sat on Harry's bed, "We need to speak to you about something important."

"You're splitting us up," Harry's voice was panicked and Dumbledore immediately put a hand on the blanket covered lump that was his foot. The touch was meant to be comforting, but it was all Harry could do not to kick the hand away gently. There was only one person he wanted touching him right now, and Dumbledore wasn't him.

"Not at all, dear boy," Dumbledore soothed, "Just relax. You need to eat more of that delicious breakfast that Dobby has prepared for you."

Harry bit his lip and obediently took a forkful of eggs, chewing and swallowing mechanically. He could see Ron had stiffened in his own bed and was shooting anxious little glances his way.

"Last night, I witnessed an almost perfect example of Sympathetic Magic, as performed by true life partners," Flitwick said after a moment, "The two of you were magnificent in your ability to protect and counter-act the harmful spells being cast by our assailants."

"You mean like the stuff we've been doing in Charms - close order magic?" Ron asked, shifting so he was curled slightly on his side. Harry smiled at him, then glanced down at his plate, surprised to see it half empty. Dumbledore squeezed his foot in approval, and Harry offered the Headmaster a rather weak smile. He was a little uncomfortable with the Headmaster after last year, and it saddened him. The long concealed prophecy was a sore point with Harry, though he understood the reasons for the concealment now. In addition, Dumbledore had always meant a lot to Harry - still did - but the humiliation he felt about having to be rescued from his relatives last summer made it hard to look his Headmaster in the eye.

"Not quite, Mr Weasley," Flitwick replied, drawing Harry's attention once more, "Sympathetic magic does require the participants to work very closely together, however there is more to it than that. They pool their magical strength, ability, knowledge and talent together, drawing on it equally or in turns. In addition, they are able to communicate without speaking to one another. One is often gifted in an area of Divination - predicting the future with some degree of accuracy, and the other is a more grounded individual, able to see through the forces motivating the people around them. Also, both are able to perform magic without the use of wands or spoken incantations."

"Have either of you noticed any of these abilities?" Dumbledore asked quietly, and Harry stared down at his nearly empty plate, pushing it away and glancing at Ron. The glance was permission, and Ron sighed, speaking for them both.

"Harry is gifted in the Tarot, and we can talk to each other if our fingers are touching. And last night…"

"We were in perfect synch with each other," Harry finished when Ron didn't. Flitwick smiled at them both, delighted that they weren't trying to deny it or hide from the implications. He glanced over at Dumbledore, who seemed to straighten and take over.

"There are other facets of this partnership that have often emerged," he looked them both in the eye, one after the other, and Harry understood what he was building up to. Not wanting to be asked by his Headmaster if he was shagging Ron - not that Dumbledore would use those words - Harry decided to come clean himself. It was important to him that Dumbledore and Flitwick understand that there was more than sex to their relationship.

"Just after we arrived at Hogwarts this summer, Ron and I began… a relationship," he interrupted the Headmaster, "It's one that we'll continue for the rest of our lives."

"He's stuck with me," Ron backed Harry up, using the words that had become almost a vow of marriage to them both. Dumbledore looked delighted and Flitwick clapped his hands in glee.

"Oh excellent!" he exclaimed, "This proves that you are truly compatible! While there are many partnerships that form close ties - such as the one you both have with Miss Granger - not all develop into a true-life partnership. I must congratulate you both!"

Harry smiled at the excited Professor, shooting Ron a look, relieved his partner wasn't angry that he'd revealed their secret. Dumbledore was congratulating them too, and getting up.

"Professor Flitwick has agreed to give you both the additional training that you will need if you are to avoid exhausting yourselves whilst using your gift," he told them, "I am sure you both wish to avoid further visits to our lovely hospital wing. I will of course be informing your parents, Mr Weasley."

Harry thanked the Charms Professor, and Madam Pomfrey bustled over with a tray of potions and poultices. Professor Flitwick drew her aside for a moment to speak softly to her - and when her eyes widened Harry guessed that he was telling her about their new status. His suspicions were confirmed when she told Harry to get into bed with Ron, and drew the curtained screens she used for privacy around them as they settled with soft sighs of relief in each others arms.

"You'll recuperate much more quickly if you're together," she said kindly, "Congratulations boys. I'm very happy for you both."

Harry smiled at her but did not reply. Ron's hand was stroking the small of his back already and he was headed rapidly for sleep.

0o0o0o0

Madam Pomfrey released them after dinner - though she'd had to wake them both first - and they returned to the Gryffindor common room. Hermione had ushered them both off to their room and made them lie down. They'd told her what Flitwick had told them - and Ron had included the observation that Flitwick had made about their close ties to Hermione to cheer her up - and then she'd left to let them rest. They'd sealed their door, taken off their shoes and robes, and lay down in their uniform, drawing the curtain and shutting out the rest of the world. Harry's glasses were banished to the dresser and there was a feeling of tender intimacy in the way the dark shrouded them.

Ron was pleased about that as he still felt a little tired, hence the cuddling with Harry. He was on his back, his partner lying partially on top of him, letting him rub the small of Harry's back and feeling the tension seep slowly out of his friends body. Ron loved doing this for Harry, in fact he did it every night, even if they weren't having sex.

Something that Flitwick said in the hospital wing was worrying Ron, and he felt he had to raise it now, before they started training. As much as he hated sitting around discussing how he felt, Ron had to know what it was about him that Harry loved - or if they were just together because they were magically compatible. Ron was fairly sure that it wasn't the case, but never-the-less needed to know, once and for all, why Harry loved him. The only problem was that he was fairly sure that just asking Harry the question would upset his partner.

"Harry?" Ron asked softly, in case Harry had gone to sleep. With the curtains closed, the bed was rather dim, and Harry had his face buried in Ron's neck, breathing warmly into his skin.

"Yeah," Harry's response was low and his voice a little rough. Ron bit his lip, then blurted out the question.

"Why do you love me?"

Harry stiffened and pulled away, rolling over and then sitting up, scooting back until his back was resting against the wall their bed was pushed against. Ron was regretting this already, but he'd started now and needed to finish it.

"What?" Harry's voice was bewildered, and a little hurt.

"Do you love me because our magic is compatible?" Ron said it steadily, trying to explain what he was thinking, "Why do you love me?"

"Bloody hell, Ron!" Harry swore in the darkness, and there was anger and a little fear in his voice, "We didn't know we were compatible before we got together! How can you say that? Do you think I'm just using you for sex?"

"No!" Ron reached out instinctively but Harry avoided his grasp. Ron sighed, letting his partner have his way for now, "I don't think you're using me!"

There was a long moment of silence and Ron bit his lip. He should have kept his mouth shut. When Harry spoke again it took a moment for Ron to understand what he was saying.

"I love you because you see me. Not the Boy Who Lived, or Riddle's Enemy, or Dumbledore's Golden Boy, or the Weirdo at Privet Drive, or the Dursley's Freak Nephew. You see Harry - you always did. I love you because you accept me as I am, warts and all. You don't try to make me be someone I'm not, or hold me up as an example or anything else. I love you because when the world goes to shite you're at my side, and I know that when I have to go on alone you'll wait for me to come back. I love you because you can make me laugh, and being with you is fun. You're patient with me when I'm being stupid or unfair, and you're my best friend. I love you because you're you, and that makes you the most important thing in my world."

Harry's voice was pained and choked as he stumbled through his words. Ron's heart was soaring though, because Harry had reassured him so well. He reached out again and came in contact with Harry's sock clad foot. He stroked it softly, and took a deep breath.

"I love you because you see people. You don't care who we are or where we come from - each person you meet is treated as an individual, without prejudice, until they've proven they should be treated otherwise. I love you because you're passionate. Even after all the things you've been through you put your heart and soul into everything you do. I love you because you're dead sexy and I'll be pinching myself for the rest of my life because I'm so lucky to have you in my life. I love your dignity and courage, the way you smile at me, the way you fly in Quidditch. I love your grace and creativity, and the way you put everyone else first. I love the weirdo, and the boy who lived, and everyone else you have to be. I love the way you make me feel, and the way you see right through me to what's really important."

Harry launched himself on top of Ron, who clutched him close, holding on through the tears and soft sobs. He wished he'd told Harry this sooner, and saved them the pain now. Harry's sense of self worth was still shaky, and Ron had a niggling suspicion that he'd be dealing with this issue for the rest of his life. He was more than up to the task.

"You're loveable, Harry," he whispered into the dark hair, "I know that no one has told you that for a very long time, but you are."

"Don't doubt me," Harry sobbed, "I don't love you because Flitwick says I should."

"Shh, I'm sorry mate," Ron soothed, "I should have kept my mouth shut. Come on, Harry, you know you're stuck with me. I won't leave you. I'll always love you. You and me are forever."

"Forever," Harry hiccupped, and Ron kissed the nearest bit he could reach, which happened to be an ear.

"Yeah," he confirmed, "Forever. I should have waited until we felt a bit better to ask you. I'm sorry."

"No, Harry lifted up enough to look fuzzily at his partner, "No - you don't ever wait to ask me about that. I'd rather know what you were feeling right away than have to find out…"

"Shhh," Ron leaned up and kissed trembling lips, "We'll sort it out, ok? Come on, lie down again. We're too tired now. Things will be better after a sleep."

Harry nodded and lay down again, curling close. Ron clutched him tightly, letting his own exhaustion roll over him. He felt Harry's presence withdraw a little as his breathing evened out and knew that Harry had 'stepped out', protecting himself and Ron with the Occlumency that he practiced whenever he was asleep. Ron buried his face in the unruly hair of his partner and followed him.

0o0o0o0

They were summoned to Professor Flitwick's study after dinner that Sunday, to discuss the timing and content of their training. Both teens were eager to begin this rather exciting stage of their lives. Mrs Weasley had sent them a very guarded note - congratulating them both on their 'wonderful news' and leaving it at that, lest the message be intercepted and give away their secret to their enemies.

"For the rest of this term," Professor Flitwick informed them as they sat on his rather spindle legged furniture, "You will come to me every Monday evening and Sunday morning for your training. Next term you will study with Professor Snape at the same time, for there are several Potions that include the use of Sympathetic Magic, and are obviously not taught to all the students. Next school year you will study for a term with Professor McGonagal, who will teach you more complex forms of transfiguration. I understand that you are both Animagus?"

"Yes, Professor," Harry's mind was spinning, and Ron's fingers were grounding him. They'd spent the morning in bed together, giving each other pleasure and comfort, and felt a lot more energetic as a result. Harry was kind of relieved that they'd hashed things out the night before, as it had obviously been worrying Ron.

"Once you have studied with Professor McGonagal, Professor Dumbledore will undertake to train you in defensive spells, and then we will be finished. Partners of Sympathetic Magic can only be given very preliminary training, as it is they who decide ultimately how they will work together," Flitwick continued, "Now, we will begin tomorrow after the last lesson. You are to bring your wands and parchment and quills. I will also give you a list of books on the subject that I most strongly recommend you purchase. Are there any questions?"

"If you give us the list now we'll send Hedwig to Flourish and Blotts with it," Harry answered the Professor. Flitwick beamed at him happily, and produced the list from inside his robes. Ron took it and they got up.

Professor McGonagal was waiting outside the door for them. She looked very grave, and a little upset. They were both glad to see her up and about, as they had been worried about how badly she'd been injured. Madam Pomfrey would only say that she was 'coming along nicely' - a not very encouraging report.

"Are you all right Professor?" Harry asked a little anxiously. She gave them a solemn smile and nodded.

"I am, Mr Potter, thanks to you and your partner," she glanced at Flitwick, who shut his door with a final goodbye. Their Head of House indicated that they should come with her, and Harry and Ron followed her down the corridor.

"I had hoped, Mr Potter, that this matter would be put off until you had more time to come to terms with your loss," McGonagal said very gently, "Unfortunately the firm handling the estate of your godfather, and that of your parents as well, feel it necessary to speak to you at once. I can no longer stall them, and Professor Dumbledore has graciously allowed us to use the Headmasters office to meet with your solicitor. You needn't worry - both the Headmaster and myself will be with you, as will Mr Weasley. May I congratulate you both?"

"Thanks, Professor," Harry mumbled, rather stunned. He had a solicitor? And an estate? He hadn't really thought about what would happen to Sirius' belongings once he'd died. There had been no funeral or memorial for his godfather - who was still considered a criminal by the vast majority of the Wizarding world. Ron reached out and took Harry's hand - not to speak to him, but just in comfort.

"You'll be ok, mate," his partner promised, "Professor McGonagal would never steer us wrong, and Professor Dumbledore has always tried to do the right thing for you."

The irony of that statement had not escaped Harry. Dumbledore's decisions for Harry's welfare had always been made with the best of intentions - unfortunately, they had rarely worked the way his mentor had wished. The Dursley's had turned into Harry's nightmare, and sheltering Harry from the prophecy which had led to his parents murder hadn't been a real success either.

"Fizzing whizzbies," McGonagal told the gargoyle that guarded the entrance to the Headmasters stairs, and it hopped aside. Harry stepped onto the moving stairs with a deep breath, Ron at his side. They rode up in silence and waited politely for Professor McGonagal to join them, allowing her to enter first.

The solicitor was a ruddy-cheeked Witch in splendidly embroidered robes. Her hair was cast in elaborate ringlets that cascaded from the top of her head, and she had a leather satchel stamped with elaborate gold lettering. Professor Dumbledore had seated her in an armchair, with a small table at her elbow, already stacked high with papers. The Headmaster was seated in an armchair to her left, and Professor McGonagal took the one to her right, leaving the small lounge opposite the solicitor for Harry and Ron.

"Ah, Harry," Dumbledore smiled as they got settled, hands brushing, "This is Madam Legales, of the solicitors firm, Legales, Hedwitch and Pratt. She has been handling your parent's estate, and is also responsible for your godfathers will. She has some business to discuss with you."

"And with all due respect, Headmaster, my business is confidential. Your student is quite safe with me," Madam Legales voice was rich and fruity, with rather posh accents. Harry smiled at Ron's stifled growl, squeezing warm fingers in agreement.

"Madam Legales, I don't need protection from you," Harry spoke up clearly, making sure she saw his anger at being labelled a coward, "The Headmaster and my Head of House are the closest thing I have to parents at the school. I would be foolish to refuse their counsel in any legal matters placed before me. And before you also insult my partner, Ron Weasley is my sole beneficiary. Anything you have to say to me will be reported to these three people anyway. Shall we proceed?"

Legales went slightly pink, and Professor McGonagal aimed a small smile at her student while Ron's fingers told Harry exactly how he felt and what he planned to do about it when they were alone that night. Professor Dumbledore merely folded his hands and waited for the solicitor to come to the point.

"Very well, Mr Potter," Legales cleared her throat, "Now, as to Mr Black's estate…"

Harry listened closely. The Black family had been rather wealthy Purebloods, and Sirius had left his entire estate to Harry upon his death. That meant the house at Grimmauld Place was his, and the contents of the Black family vault located at Gringott's as well. Harry would rather have his godfather alive and well, and Ron's response to this fervent wish was to let go of his hand and put an arm around his shoulders, squeezing gently. His partner's ears were slightly red, and Harry loved him all the more for his willingness to put aside his discomfort and support Harry publicly.

"Thank you," Harry nodded when Legales asked if he understood, "I'd like it placed in your records that the house at Grimmauld Place and any other property I hold is to be given to Ronald Weasley in the event of my death. Failing that it is to go to the Headmaster of Hogwarts, to be held in trust for the school in perpetuity, and used as the Headmaster sees fit."

"Harry!" Ron protested, "Are you sure?"

"I am," Harry nodded, looking at his partner with a small smile and covering the fingers gripping his shoulder, "What's mine is yours."

"Oh, good," Ron smiled weakly, "Because I need to borrow your copy of Basic Spells."

Harry laughed, the tension evaporating for him. Ron always knew how to do that, it was one of his most endearing traits, though it drove Hermione crazy. Professor Dumbledore stifled a small cough in his beard, and Harry thought the Headmaster had been laughing too.

"Does this include your parents property?" Legales asked pointedly, and Harry turned to her with a frown. He'd never thought about what had happened to the house his parents had once lived in. If he considered it at all he had assumed what was left of the house had been sold, and the money deposited at Gringotts.

"I don't know anything about my parents property," he told her bluntly, "I have access to their vault at Gringotts, but that's all I know about."

"Your parents bought a small farm - little more than a series of pastures - at Godrics Hollow, just on the edges of the village. We have been renting the property - called Potter's Field - out as grazing rights to some of the local farmers. That income has paid our fees and the rest has gone into the vault in trust for you. Professor Dumbledore approved these actions - he has not spoken to you about it?" there was a sly edge to her voice and Harry bristled to the Headmasters defence.

"There was never a moment that was appropriate for such a discussion. I was hardly fit to conduct my affairs at eleven, and as you may be aware the past two terms have been rather strenuous as my housemates and I have had to fight off no less than two attacks by Death Eaters," Harry made his voice as disapproving and quelling as he possibly could, and was pleased to see her flush again in embarrassment. The voice also had an effect on Ron, but it was one that was best explored in the privacy of their rooms.

"Forgive me, Mr Potter, that was uncalled for," she murmured, "I will include Potter's Field in your instructions. The pastoral lease on the land where your parents house stood will be up for renewal shortly, what are your wishes?"

"Let it lapse, though the rest can be renewed when they next come up," Harry told her, an idea forming, "Will it be vacated by the summer holidays?"

"Oh yes, the lease ends next month," she nodded and made another note, "I'll draw up your will, then, sir, and owl it to you by Tuesday. The owl will wait until you have signed and witnessed the document and then return the document to my office. Copies will be returned to you, along with the documents relating to both properties. Is that satisfactory?"

"Yes, thank you," Harry nodded, "Is there anything else?"

"No, that concludes our business for today, sir," Legales started packing up her papers, "If I may use the Floo to return to my office, Headmaster?"

"Of course," Dumbledore nodded and McGonagal stood up, gesturing for the teens to precede her. Harry bade a regal farewell to Legales, and thanked the Headmaster for his time before letting Ron lead him out. They were halfway down the stairs before Professor McGonagal lost her battle with decorum and giggled. The teens joined her laughter - Legales had been a rather pompous busybody until Harry had pulled his little act.

"If you ever use that tone with me, young Potter," McGonagal gasped, and Harry nearly fell over, he was laughing so hard at the idea of treating his intimidating Head of House that way.

"I have too much respect for you Professor," he promised, and her giggles stopped. She got a rather funny look in her eyes and patted his shoulder in a very fond gesture.

"Thank you, Harry. You'd best get along to the Great Hall - it will soon be teatime," she shooed them off, and Harry steered his still giggling partner off down the corridor.

0o0o0o0


	6. 2nd term, sixth year 2

"What bothers me is they haven't managed to make the Death Eaters we caught talk," Ron buckled his shin guards in place and then reached over to adjust the neck of Harry's Quidditch robes. The rest of the team were used to seeing these two fiddle with each other's gear absently now, and it didn't even rate a raised eyebrow. Harry grinned his thanks, enjoying the touch innocently.

"Shacklebolt and Tonks will wear them down," Harry knew he sounded confident, "I did a spread with that school deck I borrowed from Trelawny. She was so pleased I was interested in her 'art' that she let me have one for the rest of the term."

"You need to get your own, mate," Ron frowned, and let Harry adjust his wrist guards, "Flitwick said…"

"I'm sorry to interrupt you two, but would it be too much to ask that you pay attention to the match we're about to play?" Angelina Johnson broke in, using the sweet reasonable voice that meant you were about to be hexed six ways to Sunday. The partners broke off their conversation, and turned their attention to the rest of their team mates.

"Now that our Keeper and Seeker are ready," Angelina smiled sarcastically at them, "You all know that this is one of the most important games of the season. We play Slytherin and there is a lot riding on the match. We need to beat them by two hundred points to knock them out of the running entirely, but they'll be especially vicious after the thrashing that Ravenclaw gave them last time."

"It was beautiful," Ginny sighed, "Malfoy missed the snitch at least three times!"

Ron and Harry grinned at each other. They'd spent some time this last week reminding Malfoy of just that fact every time they met him in a hallway. Neither partner was silly enough to try it in a lesson - they didn't want to risk being banned from this match. Even Angelina was smiling in fond reminiscence.

"Yes, and he'll be out to prove himself this match. They need to win, and win well to recover from that last match. We're lucky enough to have good weather for ours," Angelina gestured out the window at the sky, which was blue with a few white high clouds, "So you'll have to watch yourselves. Slytherin likes to play dirty, and Harry, whatever you do, don't catch the snitch until we're fifty points up."

"Got it," Harry nodded, "Fifty points."

"Everyone ready? Lets go!" Angelina snatched up her broom and led the way out of the changing rooms to the players box. They got into position quietly, and Ron cleared his throat once. Harry reflected that he'd been having a brilliant run lately, and even the Slytherins had been forced to retire their version of 'Weasley is our King'. That had been sung at the first match of the season, and Harry had shot him a look that made the song fade from Ron's memory. He'd saved three goals in very quick succession before his partner had caught the snitch. They'd celebrated very enthusiastically that night with the team, and Harry had given his tired partner a sweet kiss before they'd slept. Ron had told him that was reward enough.

Madam Hooch strode out onto the pitch and reminded everyone that she expected fair play from all of them. The captains shook hands, everyone mounted, and Harry kicked his Firebolt off, moving to hover in the traditional Seekers position, above the Chasers and Beaters. Colin Creevey had taken the role of Beater this year, taking Kirke's place. Sloper had retained his spot as Beater, and seemed to have improved over the summer and after a lot of intense training with the team - he now hit the bludger where he was aiming it most of the time, and very rarely hit his team-mates. Angelina and Ginny were Chasers along with a fourth year called Alex Marshfall.

The snitch was released with the bludgers, and the whistle blew as the quaffle was thrown straight up. Gryffindor emerged with it from the scrum and Harry zigzagged above them down the length of the pitch, diving at one of Slytherins Beaters - he could never tell them apart - to spoil his aim at Ginny. Malfoy was zooming around the pitch feverishly, presumably looking for the snitch, and Harry soared back up to his position at the edge of the pitch, halfway between each goal. He preferred to watch for the snitch from a stationary position, it let him assist his team-mates with a distraction or a feint when needed.

Slytherin were playing very dirty, and Gryffindor received two penalties in the first ten minutes, which they converted to goals. That put the score at thirty nothing, and the Slytherins seemed to realise that they were defeating themselves. Though the team was mounted on the Nimbus Two Thousand and One model racing broom, they were finding it very hard to outclass the Gryffindors, who only had Harry's Firebolt to boast of. Gryffindor had discovered early that the best broom in the world wouldn't improve your ability to play Quidditch if you were talent less.

Ginny had the quaffle and was streaking for the goal when a bludger hit her brooms tail and sent her into a spin. The quaffle went flying as she tried to control her broom, and was grabbed by a Slytherin Chaser. Harry zoomed down the pitch, running interference until Angelina and Colin could get there. A very cleverly aimed bludger sent the quaffle flying and Angelina grabbed it, heading back up the pitch, joined by Alex. Ginny had regained control of her broom, though Harry thought it was having some difficulty flying in a straight line.

He ducked a bludger and glanced around to make sure that Malfoy was still seeking the snitch. Gryffindor increased their lead to forty and Harry decided it was time for a little distraction. He spun his broom towards his own goals and sped up, the ground and stands going by at a blur. His partner ducked out of Harry's way as a whistle of air told him that Malfoy had joined him in the hunt, thinking that Harry had spotted the snitch.

Harry heard Ron laugh as they went zooming past and Harry looped around the goals in a complicated pattern before returning to his usual place halfway down the pitch.

"What's wrong, Malfoy? Lost the snitch again?" he called over his shoulder, and gripped his broom as Malfoy barged past him, trying to knock him off as he went back to his search pattern, weaving in and out of the other players. Harry chuckled to himself and watched Ron make a brilliant save despite both bludgers aiming for him. He breathed easier when Colin and Sloper took charge of them, sending them towards the Slytherin captain.

There was a chill in the air as winter had yet give way to the spring storms, and Harry shivered a little in his robes, deciding to warm up with a quick sprint around the pitch. He scattered the Slytherin Beaters on his way past and dodged and dived around the Slytherin goal before returning to his place with Malfoy a rather dishevelled second. Before either teen could come up with a taunt there was a roar from the Gryffindor supporters, and Harry grinned, turning to keep an eye out for the snitch once more, looking in real earnest this time. He had to catch it before Malfoy did, thus knocking the Slytherins out of the running.

A flash of gold had Malfoy winging after it, with Harry in hot pursuit. The snitch led them a merry dance around both goalposts, as the Seekers rammed each other and ducked bludgers in an effort to get there first. Players scattered in front of them as they blasted through a heated dispute for possession of the quaffle. The Nimbus was no match for the Firebolt over long distances, and Harry had started to pull ahead when Malfoy grunted and heaved his broom handle over the top of Harry's, sending them both off course and into a steep dive. This was a foul called blurting, which would result in a penalty for Gryffindor if Madam Hooch had time to notice.

"Bugger off!" Harry roared, to the blonde's obvious amusement. Harry grit his teeth, seeing the wall of the stands looming very close. It was obviously Malfoy's intention to smear him on the wall like jam on toast. He took a deep breath and threw his weight sharply to the right, rolling his broom free of Malfoy's in an unexpected move. Harry maintained the roll, taking his broom underneath the other teens Nimbus, seeing the snitch shoot underneath them both in the opposite direction. Harry righted himself, free of Malfoy, who was overshooting his target in an effort to stop, and jammed his feet onto the twigs at the end of his broom, hauling up on the handle until the broom was vertical, twisting his weight so he spun one hundred and eighty degrees on the spot.

Now the snitch was in front of him, and Harry slammed his broom back into the horizontal position, leaning forward and kicking it into maximum speed. The snitch fluttered along in front of him and Harry leaned forward even more, snatching it out of the air and hauling back on his broom, soaring up into the rare, clear, winter sky - roars echoing in his ears.

0o0o0o0

"Harry!" Hermione screamed in his ear, "That was bloody brilliant!"

Harry winced away from the volume, though to be fair she had to scream to be heard over the top of the rest of the house. The common room was heaving with excited students, and the rest of the team had already been mobbed. Dennis Creevey was already showing pictures from his brother's camera. Colin had discovered a way to make Muggle Polaroid's move, and his younger brother never went to a game without it.

"Ease off Hermione!" Ron grinned at their friend, "He's only got one set of ears and they're mine!"

The remark went unheard by the rest of the Gryffindors in all the fuss and bother, and Hermione moved back a little, a slightly hurt expression on her face. Harry laughed and reached out to her, giving her a hug.

"Ignore him Hermione!" he laughed, "He's just being a prat!"

Hermione gave him a slightly wobbly smile and Ron hugged her too, making her squeak. Then the rest of the Gryffindors spotted Harry and Ron in the doorway and mobbed them. They lost track of Hermione in the middle of it all, and Harry forgot about the sad look in Hermione's eyes for a couple of hours.

Lee Jordan disappeared for a while, and came back with butter beer, fire whiskey and a large basket from Honeydukes. Harry guessed the twins must have told him about the passage out of Hogwarts and laughed. Ron warned the seventh year to keep the fire whiskey away from the under aged Wizards and ate a couple of chocolate frogs.

Neville snagged Harry for a detailed discussion of the match, and Harry settled down with a large group of students in the corner, sipping butter beer and taking the match apart, discussing tactics and counter moves that the Slytherin could have used. Once they'd exhausted that topic they moved on to racing brooms - which was the best, and why. Harry became so immersed in the discussion that when Ron found him two hours later it had become dark outside.

"Hey! Have you seen Hermione?" Ron yelled, "There's an owl here for her!"

"No!" Harry roared back over the noise and got up to help him look. She didn't appear to be in the common room, and Ginny said she wasn't in her room either. The carved arms around the archway were not something either teen wanted to wrestle with, so they couldn't go look for themselves.

"Have you tried our room?" Harry leaned in close to speak to Ron without screaming at the top of his lungs. His partner shook his head and they made their way through the throng, exchanging smiles and greetings with everyone as they waded through them.

Hermione was indeed in their room, wedged into a corner behind one of their ratty armchairs. Ginny took one look, rolled her eyes and left again, muttering something about coffee and headache potions. Hermione was clutching a bottle of butter beer, but from the smell of it she'd filled it with fire whiskey. Harry had taken a sip from Ron's glass and grimaced - the taste too strong for him to enjoy, though he understood that some Wizards liked to cut it with a non-alcoholic drink.

"Hermione?" Ron asked as Harry sealed the door. He had a bad feeling about this. Hermione was clearly not in a happy place and he knew she'd be mortified the next morning if anyone else saw this. She'd probably be mortified that her friends had seen it anyway.

"That's my name," Hermione slurred, "Hey it's Ronny! Helloooooo Ronny!"

She giggled and Harry sighed, biting down on a smile at the look on Ron's face. He helped Ron pull the chair out so that they could both get in behind it and then squeezed in to sit on one side of Hermione. First things first - the removal of her drink.

"Hello Hermione," Harry smiled as sincerely as he could, "Can I have a sip?"

"Harry!" Hermione threw her arms around his neck, banging his head with the bottle and squeezing him tightly, "Harry that was bloody brilliant! Bloody bloody brilliant!"

"Thanks Hermione," Harry winced and pulled the bottle from her hand. He stuck it behind the bookcase where it wouldn't be knocked over and then submitted to her very vigorous hugs. She even kissed him on the cheek, still muttering 'bloody brilliant' at irregular intervals. Ron chuckled and she turned her head to look at him.

"Ronny! You were bloody brilliant too," she stuttered, "You were, you were, you w-w-were!"

"You're brilliant too, Hermione," Ron said gamely, and she shook her head, her mood swinging from happy to sad the way only the truly drunk could manage. Her eyes filled with tears and Harry reared back in alarm.

"No I'm not! Y-you don't l-love me any m-more," she sobbed, "You love each oth-ther and y-you're l-l-leaving m-me b-b-b-bb-behhhhhinnnnnnd."

"Hermione," Harry groaned. He had been afraid of this. The Sympathetic Magic that he and Ron were learning to control had driven a wedge between them and their friend. She had continued to study with them, and any time during the day not filled with practice for one thing or another was spent with her, but obviously she was feeling left out.

"Oh, Hermione!" he sighed, hugging her to him, "That's not true. We do love you, don't we Ron?"

Hermione was clutching his robes and crying rather messily into them. Harry hit his partner with a very significant look, and Ron hurried to back him up.

"That's right, Hermione, we do love you," he said hastily, "In fact we'd be lost without you. You're our best friend!"

Both teens had their arms around her and were rocking a little in sympathy. Harry was patting her hair and Ron stroked her arms lightly, hoping to calm her down enough to get her up into a chair before Ginny came back.

"You do?" she asked in a very small voice and the partners rushed to assure her they did. Her mood swung back to very happy again and she sat up brightly.

"We'll always be friends," she proclaimed, "Harry, Ronny and Hermy! Friends forever!"

"Friends forever Hermy," Ron chuckled and got up, hauling her with him.

"Let's have a d-drink!" she suggested, and there was a knock at the door. Ron went to unseal it while Harry settled her in his usual chair, sitting on the arm of it when she refused to let go of his hand. Ginny entered with a very large pot of strong smelling coffee, a couple of mugs and a small bottle of headache potion. Hermione greeted her with delight, and the three of them started the task of sobering Hermione up before Professor McGonagal came to break up the party.

0o0o0o0

"Now, today gentlemen, we will attempt to master the techniques you have practiced so far without the use of a wand," Professor Flitwick stood on his usual pile of books, "This will require a greater level of concentration initially, as you train yourselves to channel your magic through your fingertips."

Ron nodded rather blearily - the effects of last night's party still ringing in his ears. He and Harry had finished off the fire whiskey together after Hermione had gone to lie down and nurse her incipient hangover. As Harry hadn't liked the taste they'd added it to the pot of coffee that Ginny had left behind. His partner had warmed to the drink straight away, and they'd been a little more than tipsy when they fell into bed that night.

Harry stifled a yawn beside Ron, which the Professor luckily missed, and Ron reached out to touch his wrist. Harry had been very hard to wake this morning and they'd had no time to celebrate their win together, having to rush to make it to Flitwick's classroom on time. As a result, Ron was feeling very… unsettled, and wanted to get this lesson over with so he could get his leg over with his partner later.

/Stay awake you sod/ he warned//or I'll dose you with Pepper Up potion./

"Now, the casting of the spells is exactly the same," Flitwick continued, eying Ron's finger with interest. Ron dropped his friend's wrist and tried to look more awake, "You say the spell as you normally would, but instead of a wand movement, you must use your hands. Unfortunately, I cannot instruct you on the hand movements that will work best for you, because?"

"Each partnership is unique, and therefore uses their magic uniquely," Ron surprised himself with the answer, and smiled when Flitwick beamed at him proudly.

"Precisely!" he squeaked, "Shall we begin? As you can see I have placed several feathers on my desk. I would like you to try the Wingardium Leviosa charm on them. Remember to feel the magic as you summon it. Instead of directing it to your wand, direct it to your target object."

Harry moved and tangled his fingers with Ron's. They grasped each other easily, tenderly this morning, and felt their abilities pool easily together. Ron flexed his fingers and Harry raised his hand instinctively, pointing it at the feathers on the desk.

"Wingardium Leviosa," Ron said quietly, and Harry turned his hand palm up, his fingers spreading a little. Ron felt the tingle of the spell as it left Harry's fingertips and the feathers floated up for a moment before settling on the desk.

"Excellent work, boys!" Flitwick clapped his hands, "Try again! Mr Weasley, I want you to cast and disperse the magic this time, Mr Potter, I want you to simply put your strength at Mr Weasley's command."

This time the feathers stayed in the air a little longer. When Harry was the sole caster he achieved the same result as Ron, and when they cast together they managed to raise the feathers and hold them perfectly still in mid air until Flitwick told them to release the spell.

"I want you to practice this for a few minutes - each taking a turn to cast individually. Once you have mastered that skill we will take this another step forward," the Professor got down from his books and moved over to the bookcase on the back wall. After thirty minutes of steady work, they could levitate the feathers easily and had moved on to the furniture, which was heavier and required a greater draw on their mutual powers.

"Rest for a few minutes," Flitwick said finally and a tray popped into existence on his desk with some biscuits and tea. Ron settled on a chair and pulled Harry onto his lap, wanting to maintain their closeness for a while. Flitwick always beamed at them when they did this, and Harry no longer squirmed or blushed, which took a little of the fun out of it for Ron. Once he had deemed them to be refreshed, Flitwick reviewed the reading he'd asked them to do in a gruelling question and answer session. Then he told them they'd be casting without their wands again, this time with a new twist.

"No touching?" Harry looked a little uncertain, "But I thought that the Magic worked best when we were in contact with each other."

"It does," Flitwick agreed, "But you may one day be faced with a situation where it will not be possible for you to reach each other. You must learn to pool your resources without touch. I do not expect this will work well, or for long at first, but I would be most remiss if I did not instruct you in it now."

Ron sighed and urged Harry up. He waited until the blood returned to his legs and got up as well. Flitwick made them stand on opposite sides of the room and Ron breathed in and out slowly. It took a lot of effort to reach out to Harry magically instead of physically, and it took even longer for them to feel the synchronisation of their abilities. Flitwick stood at the front of the room in his usual spot, absolutely still as Ron raised his hand and pointed it at the feathers.

"Wingardium Leviosa," he muttered and the feathers twitched up off the desk and floated for a few seconds before falling back in place. Flitwick bounced on his toes but did not speak, and a moment later Harry achieved the same effect.

"Excellent!" Flitwick gestured for them to return to his desk, "Now, I know you will be very tired, so we will finish here for today. I want you both to rest this afternoon, and tomorrow we will try again."

"I don't like it," Harry complained, "It feels… wrong, like Ron's missing."

Flitwick's face softened and he leaned over to pat Harry's shoulder.

"I know that it feels unnatural," he sympathised, "But you must practice it diligently. There may come a time when that very skill saves your life or the life of another. It will get easier with practice, Mr Potter, and though you may prefer to be touching your partner when you cast, you must not allow yourself to become overly dependent on it."

"Professor, could we get Hermione to help us practice?" Ron spoke up when Harry had nodded glumly. He had only been speaking Ron's feelings as well, and the redhead had decided not to resist the Professors advice.

"Miss Granger?" Flitwick looked startled, "Of course, she is highly proficient when it comes to her Charm work."

"We'll speak to her about it," Ron said impulsively, "And maybe you could talk to her too? Suggest things she could help us with."

Harry shot his partner an admiring grin. Ron may just have come up with a solution to their friend's worries. Ron smiled back - that particular look always boded well for him.

0o0o0o0

Hermione had, not to put too fine a point upon it, been delirious with joy at the news that they'd asked Flitwick to let her coach them. She'd gone off straight after Sunday dinner to talk to the Professor about it, and Harry had fixed Ron with a slightly put out look.

"We'll be practicing night and day," he'd said, and Ron shrugged. He was very fond of the Muggle-born Witch and it had been depressing to see her so upset.

"We'll be fine," he told his partner as they walked up the great staircase//we'll just have to point out that we need time together too./

As their fingers were hidden in the folds of their robes, he felt safe making that comment. Harry shot him a devilish look that went straight to his groin, and his fingers were caressed smoothly, heatedly, in a manner that made walking a little difficult. He was forced to let Harry's hand go and suffer the discomfort, as well as the smug look upon his partners face.

By the time they got to Wrestler, Ron was fairly worked up, and he blew through the wall at high speed, followed by his now chuckling partner. He sealed the door behind Harry and then pinned him to it.

"You tease," he ground his very interested dick into Harry's thigh, "You absolute slut."

"Me?" Harry widened his eyes innocently and Ron leaned in to nip at his ear lobe, before kissing his neck passionately. Harry moaned and latched his hands around Ron's waist, flexing his fingers in tiny movements that spoke of need and want. Ron rubbed himself slowly into Harry's thigh, nipping along his jaw to catch hold of his moaning mouth. Their kiss was hot and slow, tongues rubbing sensuously as their bodies reached melting point. Ron felt Harry grow hard against him and growled a little into the kiss.

"Bed!" Harry gasped and Ron pulled away, stumbling backwards towards it, trusting Harry not to walk him into the walls or furniture. Harry's hands were busily removing his clothes, and when he was naked he returned the favour. They'd learned not to do this simultaneously after a nasty spill that had almost resulted in a call to Madam Pomfrey.

They tumbled onto the covers, kissing in earnest, and Ron Summoned the jar they used for lubricant from the dresser without pulling out his wand. Harry moaned and rolled onto his back, spreading his legs to give Ron the access he needed to prepare his lover. Their fingers were lingering on each others skin, speaking of love and passion and pleasure now as they joined their bodies together and established that age old rhythm.

It didn't take long to reach completion, and as they lay basking together in the aftermath Hermione banged on the door.

"Is she the most annoying woman we know or what?" Ron growled and Summoned his wand so they could perform the cleaning spells they preferred to use, and their robes as well.

0o0o0o0

Hagrid's lesson was the last one they had each Friday, and the three friends often stayed behind to help clean up. Hagrid often invited them to have a cup of tea and his ever-present hard-as-rocks rock cakes. They took the chance to get away from Malfoy's malevolent presence - he'd been in a foul mood ever since the Quidditch match that had ended Slytherins hopes of winning the cup this year. Harry had asked Ron's permission to let Hagrid in on their relationship, and Ron had seen no reason not to tell the half-giant that they were together. Hagrid had been so miserable over Harry's treatment from the Dursley's that Ron was sure their friend would only welcome a bit of happiness in Harry's life.

He'd been right, though Hagrid had pulled him aside and made sure he knew not to toy with Harry's affections. Ron had been able to swear on his wand that he wasn't and Hagrid had been appeased, much to Ron's relief. He sincerely hoped that they never rowed badly enough that Harry would come to Hagrid for solace. The half giant would dismember him without a seconds thought.

Harry was telling Hagrid and Hermione about the visit from Madam Legales, and Hagrid was a getting little misty as he remembered Harry's parents house. Ron glanced at Hermione, hoping she could come up with a diversion for them all.

"Why didn't you renew the lease on the old house site?" she asked Harry promptly, nibbling at the edge of the rock cake she'd been soaking in her tea. Ron had been curious about this, but hadn't found the right time to ask. He didn't think that Harry was planning to sell the place, but couldn't come up with another reason that made sense.

"Well," Harry shot his partner a slightly nervous look, "I was thinking about building a house there again."

Ron gaped at him. Harry knew that his partner would never be able to come up with half of the cost for the building and furnishing of a new house, either now or in the future. His family weren't destitute, but neither would his parents be able to loan him the money. Harry never seemed to notice the difference in their personal fortunes, something that made Ron love and hate him in turn about. He'd never be able to afford half the things that Harry seemed to take for granted, but Harry had merged their worldly possessions so effortlessly, telling Ron that whatever he had was Ron's.

"Harry," Ron tried to keep his voice calm and steady, "You know that I could never afford to pay for my half of this. I don't even have a job to start paying for it."

"What's mine is yours," Harry reminded him, flushing a little, "And you'll be contributing the knowledge part of this little idea of mine, because I have no idea what a house needs to be a home. I lived with the Dursley's remember?"

Ron bit his lip. It was a peace offering - Harry wouldn't really need his advice, his partner was more than capable of building himself a good home. As peace offerings went though, it was a good one. Harry hadn't much experience with Wizard houses, beyond a few weeks spent at the Burrow. Ron could contribute there - and Harry would gladly allow him to shape the house however he wanted.

"I doubt you'll need much help from me, but thanks," Ron sighed, deciding to accept it for now and talk it over in private with Harry later. Harry looked as if he understood that, and Ron smiled at him, reaching out to stroke Harry's wrist, sending a single word that had his partner relaxing.

"Who will ye get ter build it?" Hagrid asked, redirecting the conversation, and Harry brightened up. Ron tucked his arm around him and listened with an open mind to Harry's plan.

"Well, I thought that we'd get it done in the summer holidays. Then Ron and I could camp at the house and supervise it. We'll get a Muggle company to build it for us, and Ron and I will expand it magically once they're done. We could also set up the house wards and protection together once the builders were finished," Harry said happily, "Old Tom won't be expecting us to spend the summer living as Muggles."

"True," Ron agreed, "He'll be expecting us to go to the Burrow or to stay here."

"What sort of house would you build?" Hermione asked, and Hagrid got up from the table, fishing around in his bedside cabinet for something. Harry waited until the half giant had returned to the table and put a photo down on it.

"Here," he grunted, "This is what it looked like before. This is th' back yard, o' course. It was called Potters Field 'cos there was clay in th' field that th' locals quarried out. Yer parent's stabilised th' quarry an' built their ground floor in it. Then there was another two floors above, an' th' attic o' course."

Hagrid was standing with James by the backdoor of a grey stone cottage. The door was open, and Harry caught a glimpse of stairs through the door. His father and Hagrid were grinning at the camera, bottles of butter beer in their hands. Harry smiled gently and reached out to pat Hagrid's wrist. Ron could feel the tension in his partner's shoulders, and squeezed them lightly. As much as Harry wanted to know about his parents and their past, at the same time the topic raised feelings that his friend had a hard time dealing with. It was a difficult paradox.

"It's a good picture," he said, "How long had they been at the cottage?"

"Just moved in," Hagrid replied with a chuckle, "An' that was a job I'll tell yer. Doors were too narrow for the furniture. We had a job getting it all in."

Everyone around the table smiled, and Ron let his partner absorb the photo in peace. He rubbed his fingers in soothing circles around on Harry's shoulder, projecting his support and understanding.

"Did they… clear the ruins away?" Hermione asked hesitantly. Hagrid nodded curtly.

"They took it all away to be destroyed," he confirmed, "It was tainted by You-Know-Who's last curse. Th' land were ok, tho'."

"So we'd have to start from scratch," Harry squared his shoulders, and pulled out his wand. His conjured up a copy of the photo and then erased the house and people, leaving behind the land. This was something they'd learned from Colin Creevey and his photographic hobby. Hagrid tucked the original away safely and Hermione leaned in over the picture.

"You could put the kitchen and a dining room downstairs," she suggested and Harry tapped the photo. A line drawing of a large room labelled kitchen and dining room appeared in the empty hole.

"We could also have a conservatory there," Ron suggested, "Make it a suntrap, and grow our herbs and things there. We'd need windows up near the ceiling on the side that is against the quarry wall to let in light and air on that side too."

Harry tapped the drawing again and the alterations appeared. Hagrid chuckled, pointing to one corner.

"Yer'll need stairs," he reminded them, "And yer'll need a laundry."

"Put the stairs in the middle of the house," Hermione suggested, "They'll run all the way through the house, right? So you'll want them to be accessible."

"Ok," Harry finished adding that, and Ron nodded approval when his partner looked at him. He was getting rather excited by it all; he'd never helped design a house, let alone one he was building for himself and his partner. Harry was leaning into him subtly, making Ron feel contented.

"Next floor," Harry said, "I think we should have a wide hallway that leads from the front door to the stairs."

"Good idea," Ron nodded, "We can put two large rooms on each side of the hall, one front room and one study."

Harry tapped it, and Ron nodded at the updated drawing. The stairs were in the right place with a small landing halfway up to save on space, and Hagrid cleared his throat. He looked a little pink, and Ron was sure that whatever he was about to say was probably going to point out a glaring error in the plans.

"Yer should think about puttin' a toilet in there," he tapped the back of the room designated the study, "Or yer'll be climbing up three flights of stairs ter use the loo."

"Good point," Ron grinned, and Harry made the adjustments. Hermione looked at the plan and nodded before pointing out they hadn't put any windows or doors in on this floor. Harry laughed and put the doors in, while Ron pointed out where he thought the windows should go, making sure they were wide enough to admit Hedwig. Pigwidgeon was so small that it would fit in through just about anything but the mail slot.

"What sort of walls would you like to have?" he asked his partner, who grinned so happily his breath caught. Ron made a mental note not to make difficulties over the house. He knew that Harry wouldn't want to live in Grimmauld Place, and that meant they'd be renting or buying a place of their own after school anyway. At least this way they'd be in a place that was truly their own.

"I've seen your house. Our book collection is growing almost every day, and Dobby has already had to find us another bookcase to go behind the door. I was planning on lots of bookshelves built in everywhere."

Ron laughed, acknowledging that he was the biggest book collector of the two, though Harry was no slouch in that department.

"You haven't put in a fireplace anywhere," Hermione pointed out, "How will you access the Floo network?"

They went back and added a large hearth in the dining room, and slightly smaller ones in the front room and the room Harry relabelled the library, to snickers from Hagrid. Hermione was also smiling at their antics.

"Third floor," Harry cleared his throat, "Bathroom in the same place?" he looked over at Ron, who nodded agreement.

"That will make it easier for the builder," Hermione noted, "It's hard to run water all over the house, and they'll make it more expensive."

They played around with the placement of rooms on that floor, ending up having to rearrange the stairs from the kitchen on up in order to make things work out. Harry and Ron bickered a little over where they wanted their room to be, and then Ron informed Hermione she'd have to choose how to decorate her room on that floor.

"My room?" Hermione looked a little startled, and Harry laughed. He was looking like the carefree teen that he should have been, instead of the cold worried man that most people saw. The last summer holidays had left their mark stamped on him indelibly, and Ron was all for anything that would make his partner lose the years he'd gained prematurely.

"You _will_ be visiting I assume?" he asked her pointedly, "After all, you're our closest friend. Just not too much pink, ok?"

"Sure. Don't forget to give me a window and bookcase," Hermione ordered and Hagrid chuckled while Harry and Ron laughed.

"We'll need two guest rooms, really - Hermione and Ginny will share one, and one for everyone else," Ron mused, and Harry tapped the drawing again, "Unless you don't want my family staying too often?"

The look Harry gave him more than reassured him that the Weasley family were highly desired visitors at their new home. Ron knew that his family would be frequent visitors, and was grateful that his partner understood the close ties between them all.

0o0o0o0

Ron gasped as the magic released him, and reached out a hand to Harry. They had been running through their paces for Flitwick, working without wands or touch to make the instruments in front of them play. The partners had become caught up in the magic, feeling it flow with intoxicating ease between the two of them as they cast their charms and directed their efforts together. They'd also been caught up in the music, the sound becoming a living thing in the room for Ron, one that he could shape and direct along with his perfectly understanding partner.

Harry's warm fingers caressed and then gripped his. They'd never managed to enchant so many instruments at the same time before, and the effort had been exhausting. They had gotten better at working without wands and touch, and it though it still wasn't their favourite casting method, they were comfortable enough with it now.

"Excellent!" Flitwick clapped his hands, and Hermione joined in. Their audience had been enthralled, and Ron had a vague idea he'd seen them dancing together, "Come and sit down, boys."

Ron led his partner to the bench and pulled Harry into his lap as he always did. Hermione had given them a rather strange look the first time they did this in front of their Professor, which Flitwick had spotted; he had explained that the partners recovered more quickly if they were touching, and that had settled the matter.

Ron reached out and put an arm around Hermione as well, grinning at his Professor.

"Right now I'm the most envied student in the school," he said with a rather satisfied expression on his face. Hermione gave him a rather startled look; sitting very still beneath his arm as if she was worried he was about to molest her.

"Why is that?" Flitwick went along with Ron's obviously cheeky mood. Their Professor had revealed a wicked sense of humour in the time that they'd been tutored by him.

"I've got my arms around the two prettiest people in Gryffindor," Ron replied and Hermione smacked his chest lightly with the back of her hand.

"Oi," Harry protested softly, feeding Ron part of a scone. Ron was rubbing the small of Harry's back again, therefore practically putting his partner to sleep on his lap. Ron had actually performed that little feat before, but they'd been in bed that time, and Harry had been very tired.

"No hitting my partner," Harry continued, resting his cheek on Ron's head and sighing in contentment. Hermione grinned at them and ceased her protests, biting into a scone of her own.

"I must compliment you on your progress boys," Flitwick ignored the byplay, "You have worked very hard to achieve such a level of competency in a short time."

"Thanks to you, Professor," Ron spoke up, "You've been brilliant. And Hermione has been a real help too - the extra practices with her really made this easier on us both."

Harry leant over and dropped a kiss on Hermione's temple before leaning back into Ron. Hermione flushed a little but her hand joined Harry's on the back of Ron's robe. The three of them were back in synch with each other once more - the partnership formed by Harry and Ron hadn't killed their tie to Hermione after all.

Ron could only hope that their lessons with Professor Snape next term would be as easy. Easter was approaching rapidly.

"I will speak to Professor Snape if you like," Flitwick said suddenly, "About allowing Miss Granger to continue to sit in on your practices. Though the potions themselves will be beyond your ability Miss Granger, I believe the theory will interest you, and perhaps be of help in your own potion making endeavours."

"Would you like to come, Hermy?" Harry's drowsy voice drifted past Ron's ear, "I know that you have a lot of work to do with your own subjects."

"I'd like to come, if Professor Snape allows it," Hermione nodded, and Flitwick clapped his hands, directing Harry to get up so they could work on a particularly intricate protection charm that they were working into a gold and silver bracelet. The charm entailed taking strands of gold and silver and weaving them into an intricate Celtic knot arrangement.

Hermione didn't know this, but the bracelet would be hers when they finished. It was meant to thank her for standing by them over the year.

0o0o0o0

Harry scowled at his partner, who made a rather pointed gesture. They'd flipped a Knut to see who would be asking Snape if he had a booklist that they'd need for their work with the Potions master next term. He hated the idea of asking Snape for extra help in anything - the Occlumency lessons were still vivid in his memory. He'd failed at them so badly…

Harry squared his shoulders. He'd have Ron with him this time, and that would help. At least he'd have someone else to gauge his reactions by. Ron wouldn't let him get away with stupidity, and Hermione was allowed to sit in again, which meant that Harry would be very well grounded in reality.

Leaving the potion to stir itself - one of the simpler tasks that Harry had learned to perform - he moved between the tables, walking past Malfoy carefully so as not to start any incident with the embittered Slytherin. He could feel that Ron had his own hand on his wand, ready to defend him should Malfoy truly lose his head and start something in front of the Potion master.

"What is it, Potter?" Snape growled without looking up from staring at Neville through slitted eyes. Harry straightened, and took a calming breath.

"I wanted to know if you had a book list for the extra lessons next term," he said quietly. Malfoy perked right up, and sneered in his direction.

"Remedial potions _again_ Potter?" he asked loudly, and Snape looked away from Neville finally to spear his student with a very cold look.

"Shut up Malfoy," he snapped, and turned his gaze to Harry. Harry waited for the usual sneer and look of thinly veiled hatred that was always aimed in his direction. Snape merely stared at him for a moment, and then heaved a huge sigh.

"I assume that you'll purchase the books at the end of the Easter holidays, Potter. Why bother asking for them now?" he sneered and Harry bit back on a sharp retort. He knew that there was bad blood between Snape and his father - and that it was justified to some extent. However, he was sick of being made to pay for the actions of a man he'd never known, or tried to emulate. Not that he'd know what to emulate.

"I asked for them now so I could start reading them now," Harry replied evenly, "I'll send an owl for them tonight."

Snape looked at him for a moment longer, then drew a piece of parchment over and scrawled a long list onto it. Harry took it silently and turned to go back to his potion. Malfoy moved around his cauldron and Harry tensed. They were working with some nasty ingredients today - a splash from the wrong thing could result in very painful burns at the very least.

"Don't move, Mr Malfoy," Snape's voice was low and cold. The threat in it was crystal clear and Harry hurried past the other student, making sure not to even brush the end of Malfoy's table with his robes. The last thing Harry needed was a detention because of Malfoy's acting abilities.

Ron relaxed when Harry returned to their part of the dungeon. A quick glance at the potion the class was brewing led to the swift addition of the next ingredient, with Harry taking over the stirring at this stage. He was relieved to see it turn a nasty shade of red - that meant he'd caught it in time.

"I got my book allowance from Mum at dinner," Ron said in a low voice, chopping blood mushrooms into paper-thin slices while his potion stirred itself in the complex rotating figure eight that was required.

"Ok, we'll split the list as usual," Harry murmured in reply, taking up his mortar and pestle for the last bit of preparation. Ron nodded and looked down at what he was doing with a decidedly unusual expression on his face.

"What?" Harry whispered, and Ron shrugged, shaking his head a little. Hermione gave the redhead a rather exasperated look and turned to Harry.

"Ron thinks that the Professor is looking at you funny," she explained in a low voice. Harry looked at them both in astonishment, then glanced up at Snape. The Professor was looking at him with a rather blank face, but when Harry turned, Snape immediately switched his gaze to Neville again. Harry went back to his potion, wondering what that had been all about.

0o0o0o0

Ron watched the last of the students who were leaving over Easter head down the path to the carriages that were waiting for them. The weather was finally starting to give them solid stretches of nice sunshine, and he was looking forward to the holidays. They were going to the Burrow again, and Ginny was going home with Hermione for the holidays.

If Ron listened really hard he could still hear Seamus and Lee yelling in indignation about the cancelled Seven Nation Cup - it seemed that no one had been able to reorganise things in time for the Cup to go ahead. He'd thought there would be a riot in the Great Hall over breakfast this morning when the news had hit the papers. Footsteps sounded behind him, and Harry's arms crept around his waist.

"Hello my lover," Harry breathed into his ear, and Ron felt his knees go weak. He loved it when Harry nibbled or sucked or breathed on his ears. He grunted in reply and felt the lips pressed to his neck curve up in a smile.

"Ready to go soon?" Harry murmured and Ron sighed. He was unsure exactly what Harry meant by that comment - he was after all a healthy teenager who was always ready to go - but they were facing a journey and Ron preferred not to arrive looking all flushed and dopey.

"I'm ready to go home to Mum, if that's what you mean," he said firmly, "And you'll get it tonight, you bloody little tease."

"Good," Harry let him go and Ron laughed, turning to run his fingers down the side of Harry's face gently before following his partner to where they'd left their luggage.

"Are you sure we can get the builders organised these hols?" Ron asked, and Harry nodded. His partner had some scheme up his sleeve that had Ron rather suspicious as it involved Muggle technology. They had both agreed that the house should be built in the traditional Muggle fashion, thereby putting You-Know-Who totally off their track. Bill had assured them that the goblins weren't passing on banking information to the Death Eaters, though their loyalty to the Ministry was still in some doubt - mainly by Fudge who had oppressed the goblins for quite some time.

"I can't wait to see this," Ron shook his head and they pulled on their winter cloaks. Things were still pretty cool out there, despite the bright sunshine, and the walk to Hogsmeade was no picnic when you were dressed for the wrong weather.

"Look, there's a few things that Muggles do very well that most Wizards, and Death Eaters especially, either won't know about, or won't know how to do," Harry said patiently, "My Muggle school taught me how to do what I want to do…"

"Which you won't tell me about," Ron grumped, hitching up the heavy satchel with Snape's books and a few of the Muggle fiction books he'd not yet had time to read - mainly because they had only arrived this morning.

"And I'll explain it to you as we go," Harry promised. He was also carrying a satchel, though his was a bit larger as it had a few changes of clothes in it. Both of them felt the moment they were out from under the Hogwarts protection spells and Ron led the way a little further down the path just to be sure. Their training with Professor Flitwick had enabled them to feel the use of magic around them, like a tingling on the skin. Of course, there was so much magic in use at Hogwarts that they became rather inured to the feeling, only noticing when they went from an area of heavy magic usage to light.

Ron went first, Apparating into the garden, close to the tree where Harry had chosen to arrive at Christmas. Sure enough, his partner Disapparated beside him, and blinked in surprise.

"You really don't think that Mum would be best pleased to have you arriving like some stranger again, do you?" he asked pointedly. Harry simply didn't take anything for granted - and while Ron appreciated the daily appreciation he got from Harry, it saddened him that his partner often felt that people only put up with him because they wanted something from him. Harry still didn't believe that he was loveable, but Ron was working on it.

"Ron! Harry!" his mother had spotted them from the window and Ron took Harry's hand. He grinned at his partner, who smiled back a little hesitantly.

"Stuck with me," Ron reminded in a low tone, "Even if you won't tell me what you're planning."

0o0o0o0

Ottery St Catchpole was a medium sized village, with a main street that boasted something called an internet café. Ron had been a little disappointed that they were only heading to a café - they'd just finished breakfast and even he couldn't eat again just yet. Harry had grinned at him and led the way in anyway, looking good in one of Ron's Christmas jumpers. The maroon wool hugged all the muscles his partner was developing through Quidditch, and made a greedy part of Ron sit up and beg.

Inside the café, instead of the tables and food Ron had been expecting, there were rows of Muggle machines, a counter with Muggle sweets, and a Muggle who was frowning at Harry.

"What are you using it for?" she asked, still frowning when Ron tuned in to the conversation. He stepped closer to his partner in case she decided to try anything funny. They both had their wands up their sleeves, though Ron knew they didn't always need them any more thanks to Flitwick. They cast spells with their wands only when working alone, and obviously their teachers weren't going to be too impressed if they started handing in a single piece of work for the two of them.

"We're researching a project," Harry replied reasonably, "And we really only need one machine."

"You can share a chair too then," she wrote something on a slip of paper and handed it over with a rather triumphant look in her eyes. Ron immediately slid his arms around Harry and nuzzled his neck. From what Harry had said about Muggles she wouldn't take this too well, and they'd get their way.

"Perfect," he purred into his partner's ear while the Muggles eyes widened in dismay. Harry was shaking with suppressed laughter, but he leaned into the touch anyway. Ron didn't mind about this Muggle knowing they were together - in fact it felt good to claim Harry in front of witnesses for once. From the way Harry's fingers were stroking his he felt the same way.

"Here! We'll have none of that! Two chairs, two chairs!" she exclaimed and Ron peeled away slowly and reluctantly, letting Harry lead him into the back room of the café and over to a machine at the end of one of the long benches.

/Thank you/ Harry's fingers murmured as they sat down, and Ron grinned at him. He watched Harry start the machine up and the box on top started displaying various images and words.

"So what are we doing?" Ron asked, aware of the Muggles nearby. He hitched his chair closer and rested his hand on Harry's leg, establishing communications silently. Harry's hand dropped to cover his in order to reply.

He was told that the machine was called a computer and that Muggles had developed a way to link all of their computers together in order to share information, do business, tell stories and entertain each other. They called it the internet, and Harry was going to use it to firstly place the design of their house onto the computer, and then contract a builder to build it in the summer holidays.

"How can you get the picture of the house into that?" Ron asked out loud, and Harry pulled the lettered board over in front of him and started pressing things. The box changed pictures again and again until Harry found one he was interested in. Using the small round thing next to the lettered board he started drawing up the house, asking for Ron's help with remembering how it had gone.

Ron leaned in and pointed things out, watching Harry's actions closely so that he could eventually take over some of the work. Harry silently told him what the computer parts were called and how to operate them, and together they drew up their home to be and saved it to the computers hard drive. The lady behind the counter popped up at one point to check on what they were doing, and seemed disappointed when she saw.

"She probably thought we were checking out the porn sites," Harry laughed and Ron frowned at him. He knew what porn was - the twins had been lending him their collection of magazines for the past two years - but he wasn't sure what Muggles meant by the term.

"What's that?" he asked, and Harry promised to show him one before they left. Ron's stomach growled at that point and Harry pulled out a couple of coins, telling him to get them both a snack from the lady out front. She watched Ron suspiciously the whole time he looked over her selection, eventually heading back to Harry with a small pile of interesting sounding sweets.

Harry was typing away in a blue screen this time, and Ron sat down to read it through.

"Your name isn't Adam Nonymous," he pointed out, and Harry grinned, "What are you doing?"

"Setting up an address for us to receive messages," Harry replied, "I don't want to use our names for the account in case a Muggle-born spots us."

"Can they do that?" Ron raised an eyebrow and Harry shrugged, then nodded.

"If they were sufficiently skilled at it," his partner smiled, "There are a lot of people on the internet who like to stay anonymous, it's not that uncommon. Ready to look for builders?"

"There are builders on this? I thought we wanted a real house," Ron squinted suspiciously and sucked on something called a polo. It wasn't bad actually and he popped one into Harry's mouth as well. Harry's fingers thanked him as his partner called up the first screen they'd visited.

"They will be in real life, but there should be a register of builders here somewhere," he typed quickly, and then started reading when the screen changed. Ron was fascinated by what was apparently an archive and library all in one that let you send owls to speak to people without using a real bird. Muggles had some mad ideas, obviously developed to get around their lack of magic.

Twenty minutes later they had found a builder that was local to Godrics Hollow and had excellent references. Harry printed the contact details and their house plans, before sending a copy to the builder as well, with a request that he email back to them a time when they could meet at the site to discuss the whole thing. He went to retrieve their printouts, and then came back to sit next to Ron.

"Now," Harry murmured in the tone of voice that always made Ron a little nervous. His partner typed in another request, and then selected a site that interested him.

/This is porn/ his fingers stroked the message into Ron's arm as the screen changed and Ron nearly fell off his chair. He went bright red and knew it, but couldn't help staring in a kind of horrible fascination at the very graphic picture on the screen. The naked woman was interesting enough, but what she was doing with the man…

"That can't be real!" he pointed, "Can you imagine buying trousers to…"

"OI!" the lady behind the counter had spotted them and Harry started laughing helplessly. He switched off the computer and Ron had to haul him out of his seat so they could go and pay. She glowered at them all the way out the door, and Ron shook his head at his partner when they were safely on the footpath.

"I can't take you anywhere," he scolded lightly, and then groaned when Harry leered. Ron shook his head, rather pleased that Harry could be playful with him in public. His eyes fell on a shop across the road and lit up.

"Is that a bookstore?" he pointed and Harry glanced and the black sign with the golden 'w' hanging above the door. Ron grinned when he nodded and cocked his head at the store in a questioning manner. They could always use a few more Muggle books, and Ron wanted to see if there was anything in there about building a Muggle house.

"Come on then," Harry grinned, "But we're not to spend all day in there - your mum's expecting us for dinner."

0o0o0o0


	7. 3rd term, sixth year

****

Further warnings: nope - not gonna give you any…if you're still reading the series you can just take it as it comes!

****

Sympathetic Magic: Part Four - Third Term, Sixth Year

"Who's the best gardener you know?" Harry grinned at Ginny as they settled into their compartment on the Hogwarts Express. She grinned back at him, having heard all about the house plans from her very excited brother. Her mother was also making a few plans of her own, mainly to do with furnishings for the new home.

"Neville is," she replied, "You should get him to plan it all out for you."

"Plan what out?" Neville asked from the doorway. Harry got up to help him stow his trunk in the rack above the seats, and grinned at his friend. Ron hated gardening - Harry had heard him complain about it often enough at the Burrow - and Harry had plenty of experience with Muggle gardens, but no real idea what a true Wizarding garden was like to start from scratch.

"Ron and I need the advice of a good gardener," Harry chuckled at the astonishment on Neville's face, "We're planning a garden - one that can be left alone for long periods of time at first, and one that Muggles will be able to look at without a Memory charm."

"Yeah?" Neville looked interested, "How big? Where is it? What sort of soil and climate are you in?"

"Near to the sea, about thirty miles away actually, and I think it's got clay in it, the garden borders an old open air clay quarry. I didn't really look," Harry sat down beside Neville, who frowned.

"Without a soil sample I can't really make any plans for you at all," he fretted, "There's no point in giving you advice on the wrong sort of plants. Do you want Muggle plants as well?"

"Climbing roses," Harry mused, then grinned at his housemate, "Tell you what Neville - there's no hurry. I can get you a soil sample and proper measurements over the summer hols and you can plan it out for us. We can easily wait until next spring to actually plant it."

"Plant what?" Ron asked, coming in and plonking down onto the seat beside Ginny. They'd been in town to organise the money for the house at Gringott's, deciding to ride back on the Express with their friends instead of Apparating to Hogsmeade and walking up to the school. Hermione was on the platform, talking to Susan Bones about a book in her hands, gesturing as she did, and Ginny rolled her eyes when she caught sight of the two girls. Ron's question went unanswered for now, Harry would tell him later.

"She's had her knickers in a twist over some house elf law all hols," Ginny sighed, "She won't be happy until she's got them rights, or freedom or something."

"At least she's stopped trying to trick them into freedom," Harry sighed and leaned his head back against the seat. His forehead was aching a little, and from the frown Ginny was giving him he must have looked as pale as he felt.

"You ok Harry?" Neville asked, clearly remembering the screaming nightmares from their last year, and the sudden bouts of pain that had Harry crying out in class. Harry forced a smile, and nodded, sitting up a little straighter.

"Too much holidays if you get my meaning," he winked at his friend and Neville grinned back, a reminiscent smile in his eyes. Harry thought that Neville was reminiscing over a certain victory party, something that was confirmed with the other boy's next remark.

"That fire whiskey was good, though," he agreed and Harry felt a little bad for lying to his friend. He didn't want to be bothered with useless speculation about possible moves from Voldemort at the moment, though he'd be sure to tell them should things get worse. His scar had been hurting on and off all Easter, and he'd dutifully reported it to the Weasley's and Dumbledore straight away. Dumbledore thought it was because Voldemort was being thwarted in his quest for immediate power, and had asked Harry to be sure to keep up the Occlumency.

Ron had been furious with the Headmaster, and it had taken all of Harry's powers of persuasion and distraction to keep his partner from sending the Headmaster a Howler. Ron had seen the instruction as an insult to Harry, and Harry had felt oddly reassured by the outburst. He now knew without doubt that Ron trusted their safety into his hands without reservation. It was a heady feeling.

"Not so good for some of us," Ron grinned in memory. Hermione had been an exhausting drunk, and it had taken three of them to sober her up and then dose her so she wouldn't suffer too much the next morning.

"Harry only likes it in coffee," Ron revealed, and Harry glared at him. It didn't stop Ron from telling Neville about the hard time Ron had rousting Harry out of bed the next day, though he mercifully didn't say precisely how he'd managed it in the end. The other boy didn't need the mental picture of Harry being led around by a delicate part of his anatomy.

0oo0oo0

Ron and Hermione were off patrolling again, and Harry mused that he hadn't seen much of Draco Malfoy this trip either. Malfoy usually put in at least one appearance to take a dig at Harry with Crabbe and Goyle looming menacingly at his back. Harry was more than capable of out talking or out hexing the boy now - after the Dursley's Malfoy seemed like an annoying gnat in comparison.

Ginny was sitting with Luna - or 'Looney' as she was known around the school. They were talking together quietly enough. There were a couple of first years huddled on the seat next to Harry, who was sitting next to the window, and Neville was sitting opposite him. Harry had been reading one of Snape's books - the last one on the list, and the only one he and Ron hadn't already read and annotated as they went. They'd got into the habit of scribbling in the margins of their books - little comments, questions and comparisons that made it easier to retain the information. Harry often found a reply to anything he'd written, and he replied to Ron's comments as well. He couldn't remember who'd started this habit, but it was one he'd come to enjoy, even cherish. It made the book theirs - not just his, or just Ron's.

Neville had been staring out the window for quite some time, and Harry thought he might actually have dozed off. He was on the verge of it himself despite the prickling pain - the book wasn't the most attention riveting tome he'd ever read, and he'd read some boring things in his time. The motion of the train was fairly soothing too, so when Neville pulled his wand out, pointed it out the window and screamed:

"Stupefy!" at the top of his lungs Harry got quite a shock and nearly jumped through the roof. He was even more astonished when a white masked Death Eater emerged from behind a torn Invisibility Cloak and fell off his broomstick. Neville would later explain that he had seen the man's feet where the cloak failed to cover them against the wind of broom-flight, but at the moment Harry was too concerned with pulling his own wand out and shouting the alert up and down the train.

Students hit the floors as the windows shattered, sending shards flying across the compartments. The older students repaired the windows instantly, casting Unbreakable charms as well. The charms would hold for a while against the hexes flying at them now, but it wouldn't last forever.

There was a shrieking noise as the train's fire alarms went off, and a disembodied voice announced 'fire in rear carriage' over the noise. Harry swore under his breath. They weren't even at school and the Death Eaters were already having a go. It looked like old Tom Riddle had given up trying to get into Hogwarts.

"Neville, get everyone up to the front of the train," he ordered, "Pack them in as close as you can, and have the Seniors cover the windows. Cast as many protection charms as you can - get them organised. Ginny, help him out!"

Ginny started ushering the cringing first years out, with Luna close at her side while Neville ran back with Harry. They split up, Neville staying to clear the third carriage while Harry headed for the fourth. He shouted to the occupants of the fourth carriage to get to the front and ask Neville Longbottom what the plan was. The students in each compartment piled out, moving quickly. The rifts between the four houses were quickly forgotten in the mutual struggle to defend themselves and survive.

There were whisps of smoke in the fifth carriage, and the students in there were looking a little more than nervous. Harry repeated his instructions, and they moved out quickly. Several Slytherins brushed past, ushering smaller students and Harry moved aside for them easily. Malfoy was on the sixth carriage, which had more than a few whisps of smoke. He was ushering people into the sixth carriage as Harry opened the door, and Harry pushed them on, telling them to make sure they all packed into the front carriages as tightly as possible.

"Potter! The Weasel and the Mud-blood were headed for the seventh carriage!" Malfoy shouted over the heads of several students, and Harry felt fear clench in his gut. He nodded, and started forcing his way against the crowd to reach the blonde Prefect.

"Make sure they get up the front safely," Harry said as he passed, "Get the windows covered and put the Seniors in charge of protecting the Juniors!"

He felt a flash of gratitude when Malfoy merely sneered and kept pushing people along the corridor instead of forcing Harry to stop and deal with him. The Death Eaters weren't going to discriminate about their targets today - and they hadn't in the attack at the Valentine Ball either.

The door to the seventh carriage opened and Harry felt the tug that said Ron was trying to connect them. He stepped to the side, entering an empty compartment, then took a smoky breath and put all of his strength at his partner's disposal. From the draw and tingle, Harry felt a levitation charm put to use, lifting a person from the weight of it. More students than could have fit in this carriage stumbled past; students with singed robes and soot blackened faces were streaming along the corridor past Harry, and he heard Malfoy calling them on, urging them to move faster. With a bit of luck they'd be able to pack everyone into the first three carriages, and be able to lose the last five. With the reduction in weight the engine could speed up - broomsticks weren't generally designed for lengthy bursts at high speeds - and they'd lose a few of the Death Eaters. The link dissolved and Harry stepped out, heading into the seventh carriage.

He checked each compartment as he went, looking under the seats and up on the luggage racks for unconscious students. There were flames licking around the window frames, and some of the glass fragments had blood on them. Obviously the Death Eaters had targeted the last few carriages, maybe because their brooms were having trouble pacing the train. Hermione and Ron were no where to be seen, which meant that Harry would be having words with his other half as soon as they had a spare minute. The door to the eighth carriage was hot to touch, and Harry wrapped his robes over his hands, tugging them up at the neck to form a mask to breathe through.

Then he opened the door and stepped into the flames.

0oo0oo0

Harry was going to kill him. Ron decided he'd better survive long enough for his friend to do so, and ducked the ball of fire that was headed his way, pulling Hermione down with him and covering her body with his. Most of the students in this last carriage had already made it to the seventh, the last were leaving as he glanced back. Hermione had been talking to Beth Dunn when the first hex had hit, and Ron had been quick to see that the fires burning all over the carriage would soon engulf it. There had been a few moments of panic - Ron's and the students around them - before Hermione had started shouting at everyone to get out.

Ron had seen one or two people with bad cuts staggering past, and he'd grabbed Susan Bones as she hurried forward with Hannah. Hannah's face bore long deep scratches, and she was crying from a combination of the smoke and pain.

"Get everyone into the first three carriages! Seniors to defend the Juniors, and make sure someone checks for injuries!" he shouted over the roar of flames and the wail of the siren, with it's repeated warning droning over all the noise. It was making it very hard to concentrate, and getting on Ron's last nerve. Susan nodded and dragged Hannah forward.

"Shut up!" Ron yelled at the small box on the wall in frustration, and much to his surprise it did. Hermione was heading to the compartments at the end of the carriage and Ron followed her, checking to make sure there were no unconscious students lying hidden in the smoke.

"Ron! The Guard!" Hermione shrieked in horror as they cleared the last compartment. Ron swore under his breath and pulled his robes up to block out some of the smoke, with Hermione copying him a moment later. There were sparks beginning to fly around the compartment as the magically assisted fire took a firmer hold on the train. Ron wasn't sure where this was all coming from, though he'd be prepared to swear on Harry's life that there was no one on the train who shouldn't be there.

They made it to the rear door and managed to open it. The floating floor and concertinaed windshield that normally protected you when you crossed between the carriages were gone, replaced by a ring of flames and a red-hot coupling. The baggage car was also well on fire, but Hermione's streaming eyes spotted the unconscious shape of the Guard and she whipped out her wand, pointing it at the slumped shape.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" she cried, and his hand lifted a little in response. Hermione sobbed in frustration, and Ron put a hand on her arm, easing her back a bit. He reached deep for the connection to Harry, feeling relief that his partner responded almost straight away. He felt Harry put his not inconsiderable strength and ability at his disposal and raised his wandless hand. The Guard rose from the floor and floated quickly into Hermione's eager arms.

"Harry's in the next carriage," Ron let go of their link, helping Hermione drag the Guard forward. It was getting hard to breathe as the fire took all the air out of the enclosed space, the flames and sparks licking at their exposed skin and robes hungrily.

The door opened as they reached it and Harry reached out, grabbing the Guards legs and backing rapidly into the seventh carriage. The fire hadn't quite so great a hold here and it was easier to progress up the corridor with the three of them taking the unconscious mans weight. The sixth cabin was full of smoke and starting to smoulder dangerously, and the fifth wasn't much better off. They checked the compartments anxiously as they stumbled forward.

"Hermione, take him!" Harry ordered as they reached the empty fourth carriage, "Get Malfoy to help you. Tell them to pass on the message to hang on for a lurch and the driver should speed up! Then Apparate to Hogsmeade and get us help."

"What about the anti-Apparation spells?" Hermione panted, staggering forward, "I can't get around those!"

"Shit!" Ron swore, "We'd have to be outside the train to Apparate!"

"Potter!" Malfoy roared, "Get in here!"

Ron turned and saw that the door to the overcrowded third carriage was open, and that someone had the brilliant idea to coat the walls in ice and drench the students thoroughly in water to keep them safe from stray sparks. Malfoy reached out with a frown of distaste and pulled the Guard into the carriage. A few of the Juniors moved to give the injured man help and Ron dismissed him from his mind.

"We can disable the wards on this carriage," Ron grabbed Harry's wrist, "She can Apparate off before we release the coupling!"

"Good idea," Harry agreed, "Hermione, did you hear him?"

"How will you do that?" she asked, getting behind them as indicated. Ron tightened his grip on Harry's wrist in reply and they ripped the roof off the carriage in front of them, tearing the wards irredeemably. Hermione and Malfoy both shouted, and Ron felt the wards flicker and die.

"Go!" Harry was shouting, pulling Ron around their stunned friend, and heading for the door of the third carriage. Hermione disappeared with a pop and Ron secured his grip on the frame of the door, wedging Harry firmly in beside him. Harry put a hand on the back of Ron's neck.

"_Partum coupling_!" Ron pointed down at where the coupling should be and Harry grabbed for him as the train lurched sharply, picking up speed slowly at first and then with ever increasing rapidity. There was a sudden shadow passing overhead and Harry took over the magic, shielding them from the bloodletting curses being rained down upon their vulnerable position.

"Harry! Neville says they're getting hammered in the second carriage!" Susan shrieked from her position halfway up the carriage, and Ron swore in his friend's ear. They couldn't be in three carriages at once, which left them with a rather daunting prospect.

"Harry, we need to extend the shield to cover the whole train," he said urgently, and felt Harry nod in agreement. Ron took a deep slow breath and felt Harry get in synch with him, the hands knotted in his robes flexing softly as the charge built between them in an euphoric rush. He felt the power gather and then slowly, carefully creep out over the train, flowing like water to cover the carriages and engine as Ron's vision faded to nothing. He lost track of everything but the warmth of Harry's body moulded to his, the flex and warp of their magical shield as the frustrated Death Eaters pounded it with everything they had for what felt like a short eternity.

Something roared - it sounded vaguely like a lion or something, amplified a hundred times - and still Ron poured everything into his link with Harry, feeling his partner match him, feeling the sense of danger decrease a little and moaning softly as the strain became too great, as the shield began to thin in places. He felt Harry reaching desperately for some hidden reserve, anything to keep their protection working. Voices were shouting, but Ron couldn't understand them.

0oo0oo0

Harry screamed in pain as the shield tore right down the middle, clutching desperately at Ron as his partner fainted, the link crashing to nothing in a heartbeat. For one terrified moment he thought Ron was dead, and he twisted hard, letting his partner down onto the floor. He was aware that Malfoy - of all people - was holding onto him to prevent him toppling out of the carriage. Crabbe, who was holding onto Malfoy's robes screamed and ducked as someone Apparated onto the outside of the train, clinging to the coupling with his feet and the outer edge of the door with one hand. Harry whipped his wand out, but stopped the hex that leapt to his lips just in time.

Dumbledore looked like an avenging angel, clinging to the outside of the train, his long hair and beard streaming behind him, his robes flapping and cracking in the wind. Harry reached out to pull him in, and Dumbledore took his hand, securing himself just inside the door.

"I want as many of you as possible to secure a hold on each other," his magically amplified, calm voice sounded easily over the sound of the students casting hexes out the windows and trying to maintain a shield of some kind against the Death Eaters. Harry saw them all reach out - the first years using both hands to clutch their protectors - and Dumbledore pulled a small key out of his pocket. Harry pushed Ron into Malfoy's arms and glared at him before flattening himself and taking Dumbledore's place, putting a shield over their open door with his wand. He may not be able to produce a large effect like he could in the partnership, but he could watch their backs for a few minutes. When he looked back the carriage was empty and Dumbledore was striding along to the next one.

"Harry, I must remove the wards to allow help to arrive," he called over his shoulder, and Harry stumbled after him in a hurry. If the Death Eaters realised that the carriage was no longer protected he'd be mincemeat if they caught him on it. Reaching the Headmasters side, Harry reached out for the next port key.

"How do I activate it to send the next lot back?" he asked, and despite the danger Dumbledore's eyes twinkled in approval. Irrationally, it made Harry feel a little better. Plan made, Harry pushed the door open and stepped through, shouting to be heard over the counter hexes being flung. There was a ragged cheer when he announced that help was here, and people started linking together. This carriage had indeed taken a pounding, the damage and streaks of blood and soot on the students faces speaking eloquently of their struggle. There were one or two still, hunched figures, and Harry's heart was seized with an awful fear that they hadn't been so lucky this time around in avoiding serious injuries. Neville was one of the hunched forms, but he stirred enough to grasp the hem of the person next to him.

A moment later the carriage was empty. Harry looked back in time to see a whole bunch of Aurors in their black and gold robes materialise in the third carriage, brooms in hand. Snape and McGonagal were with them, hurrying forward towards the Headmaster as Dumbledore turned and handed out the last port key. Harry took the old shoe and lurched up the corridor for the first carriage. Halfway there a fireball succeeded in melting through the ice barrier that they had set on the walls, and Harry had to throw himself flat as the Death Eaters outside started bombarding the carriage with fireballs and bloodletting curses.

"Harry!" McGonagal shouted, and Harry waved back that he was uninjured before heading forward again, this time wriggling very quickly on his stomach, staying below the level of the windows and smoke. The Creevey brothers were closest to the door in the first carriage and Harry yelled his message again, with the added information that Aurors had also arrived. Everyone grabbed hold of each other and Harry passed the port key to Colin before reaching out to grab hold as well, intending to go with them.

The train shuddered and lurched as he said the spell, making Harry lose his grip as he fell. A moment later he was alone in the carriage. The wards in the walls were starting to give under the bombardment outside, and Harry lurched forward, heading to the engine. At least it was made of iron and harder to burn.

"What are you doing here!" the sweet trolley Witch shrieked when he appeared in the doorway, and she pulled him inside. The Driver was tense faced, watching the gauges and the shovel that was magically ferrying coal into the boiler at a frantic pace.

"Dumbledore's here! All the students have been taken off the train!" Harry told them from where he was leaning, "There are Aurors out there too now."

"Thank God," the trolley Witch muttered and pointed her wand out the window again, sending a hex after a fleeing Death Eater, "Don't you worry dearie, we'll take care of you."

Harry nodded, but went to the other small window and pulled his wand out, aiming freezing curses at any Death Eater he could target safely. There was a real battle going on out there as the Aurors hounded the Death Eaters away from the crippled Express. The Driver was peering ahead, and suddenly he swore loudly.

"Hold tight! They've blown the track!" he roared and Harry twisted to look. The rails a mile ahead were a twisted mess for about thirty yards, and even as he watched the driver had thrown the emergency brake on hard. The engine lurched and almost came off the rails anyway as the wheels locked, trying to stop their forward progress.

"_Reparo_!" the trolley Witch shouted, and some of the damage smoothed out. Harry joined her in shouting the charm over and over again, with the Driver adding his efforts to theirs. Some of the rails nearest them began to relay themselves, but the damage was too great for them to repair entirely. The Hogwarts Express was still going - albeit at a crawl - when it hit the damage and jumped the rails. The world turned on its ear, and Harry ended up on top of the Driver, with the Witch on top of them. The Driver stirred under Harry, pushing at him, shouting.

"Get out! Get out!"

Harry groaned and forced himself up, pulling the dazed Witch with him. They climbed and slithered out of the engine and headed for shelter in the nearby woods. The train was a mess, though only the engine and first carriage had come off the rails. The second carriage was tilted to one side, and burning fiercely, and the third carriage had caught fire at the end nearest the second. There was a horrendous squeal and the Driver groaned as great gouts of steam burst from the engine when the boiler split itself wide open.

The Aurors and Death Eaters continued to duel - even as Harry watched one of the Death Eaters came off his broom and fell heavily to the ground, followed by his broom as it floated down lazily. The Driver grabbed Harry's arm in excitement and pointed at the second carriage. Professor Snape was standing on it, surrounded by flames, shooting curses at a particularly proficient Death Eater. From the enemies moves Harry knew that Snape would not hit the man from the ground, and the Professor was in danger of being burnt alive as his opponent drove him towards the flames.

"_Accio broom_," Harry yelled, jumping out into the open. An Auror had spotted Snape and was moving to drive off the Death Eater, but the help had come too late. Snape went down for a moment as Harry mounted the broom and kicked off. He wasn't sure if the wards on the carriage were weak enough for Snape to Apparate to safety, and got his answer a moment later when Snape disappeared and then reappeared on the spot in short order. He was bleeding from a nasty wound to the head, and Harry saw the edge of his robes catch fire as the flames leapt high about him despite the quenching spells he was directing at them.

"Snape!" Harry screamed, and when the Potions master looked up he performed the sticky finger charm, feeling his left hand glue itself to the broom, and hooking his legs around the shaft tightly before leaning down with his right hand outstretched. Snape's hand whipped up into the air and Harry felt his fingers glue themselves around the other mans wrist. There was a terrific jolt as he took Snape off his feet and away from the burning carriage, and something in Harry's shoulder tore open. He screamed in pain as his arm lost all power, but thankfully the sticky fingers charm held, and Snape was lifted safely back to the edge of the forest. Harry lowered his teacher to the ground carefully and then collapsed beside him, letting the pain take him away.

0oo0oo0

Ron didn't care that Harry's hair was wet with his tears, or that the body he was clutching was cold and unresponsive. He didn't care that his mother was seated on the end of the bed that he and Harry were squeezed into, or that his father was sitting at his back, one hand on his shoulder. He didn't care that Snape and Dumbledore were standing at the foot of the bed, and the Headmaster was regarding him with worried eyes, or that Madam Pomfrey was looking at him with concern while she tried to take Harry's pulse.

All he cared about was that his partner was in one piece, and if it took him a little time to come back to him from wherever he'd retreated then Ron would wait gladly. Ron pressed his face closer into Harry's hair and tightened his grip when Pomfrey tried to prise their hands apart once more.

"No," he growled, "Not letting go!"

He'd woken in the hospital wing with a bad head and a few uncomfortable burns. He'd been so sick he'd thrown up all over Madam Pomfrey, and it had taken all her skill to get the strong headache potion down him. Unable to stay - there was a stream of injured students being carried up from the Great Hall by the teachers and their fellow students - she had left him to recover in the small isolation chamber. Hermione and then Ginny had come to find him eventually, sitting with him while the noise from the main ward quietened. The girls had dozed off when night finally fell, and Mr and Mrs Weasley found them there. Ron had fought off the lethargy he felt long enough to ask about Harry, and that was when things had taken a turn for the worse.

Ginny had been out in the hallway for some fresh air when Harry had been brought in. His shoulder was a mess, Snape was no lightweight, and he was deeply unconscious. Madam Pomfrey had directed his bearers to lay him in another of the isolation chambers. Then Madam Pomfrey and the Healers summoned to the school when Hermione had raised the alarm, had swarmed around him, and Ginny had stayed to see what happened to Harry before going to tell Ron that he was there. Furious that no one had told him that his partner was here and hurt, Ron had staggered out of bed to go to his side just as the Healers had stepped back.

Madam Pomfrey had said something about dangerously deep shock, a few burns that Harry hadn't noticed in the thick of things, the damage to the shoulder he'd dislocated once already this year, and then fallen silent. Mrs Weasley had been pale and tearful, but Ron had simply climbed into Harry's bed and gathered him close, careful not to jar anything, breathing in Harry's unique scent.

Harry had lain in his arms, totally unresponsive to external stimuli for two days. Madam Pomfrey had tried to get Ron to let go and get up, but Ron had refused adamantly. He just knew that Harry would want him close, knew that he was there, and would come back to him when it was safe to do so. Ron couldn't forget that Harry had once said one of the things he loved about Ron was that his partner was always at his side - and when they had to part he knew that Ron would be waiting when he came back. Ron was determined not to let Harry down.

"Ron, dear," his mother reached out to grasp his ankle, "You must let Madam Pomfrey…"

"No!" Ron shouted, turning his head enough to glare at her. He wasn't letting go, and he wasn't letting them take Harry away. Madam Pomfrey had said something about St Mungo's. He wasn't letting them take his partner to that place - Harry hated St Mungo's. He couldn't sleep there; it was too noisy and frightening.

"No, I don't have to let her do anything! He's my partner, and he'll be ok if you'd all just let us alone!"

"Don't shout at your mother," his dad shook Ron's shoulder a little, "She only wants the best for the both of you."

"Then leave us alone! He's tired and he needs to rest. He'll wake up when he's rested. Professor, tell them! Tell them that he's just sleeping," Ron pleaded with the Headmaster, "Please… just tell them."

Dumbledore shifted from foot to foot and folded his hands beneath his beard uncomfortably. Ron bit back another sob and buried his face in Harry's hair once more, the messy black strands clinging to his wet face. He heard the Headmaster clear his throat and gripped his partner even tighter in defiance.

"Ron," Dumbledore's voice was very gentle, "Perhaps it would be best if you let go. Just for a moment."

"No," the response was very weak, but clear, "Ron…"

"I've got you," Ron blurted, kissing Harry's hair and wrapping a leg around his partner's. Freezing cold fingers found his, and he tangled their hands together joyfully.

"Cold…" the complaint was soft, but galvanised Madam Pomfrey into pointing her wand at the blankets and heating them once more. The charm had a limited life, and wasn't designed for medical use, but until she could untangle her patients it would have to do. Ron snuggled closer than ever - something that anyone watching would have thought impossible.

"It's ok, Harry, just rest," Ron whispered, "Just rest now."

He felt his partner take that 'step back' and smiled happily.

"He's asleep, he's practicing the Occlumency," he told Madam Pomfrey when she made a startled noise and a grab for her wand again, "I can feel it."

"Now will you let go?" she asked tartly, and Ron shook his head stubbornly. He did manage to sit up though, with his partner rolling over automatically to get comfortable. Ron smiled, pulling Harry's head into his lap. It wasn't a bad compromise, Madam Pomfrey had better access and Harry sighed comfortably as the blankets were tucked in under his chin.

0oo0oo0

"How's Harry?" Hermione looked up as Ron slumped into the chair opposite hers, and he shrugged grumpily. He'd gone rather suddenly from gluing himself to Harry's side for three days to being exiled by a very embarrassed and grumpy partner only this morning. Harry had slept deeply in his arms, and woken with much more energy. Ron had been kissing him good morning when Madam Pomfrey appeared with their breakfast, and her scolding and fussing had led to Harry asking shamefacedly for Ron to go.

Ron had spent his lessons sulking in silence, with most of the students around him too scared to ask how his friend was. He felt a little betrayed - he'd gone head to head with every authority figure in his life to stay at Harry's side and his partner had simply dismissed him.

"Fine," Ron folded his arms and sulked at the fireplace. He saw Hermione swallow a smile, and grimaced at her. She didn't understand. The relationship between him and Harry was rapidly outstripping the bonds of family love he felt for his parents and siblings, yet Harry had dismissed him after a little lecture from the schools matron.

"It's not my fault Pomfrey came in without knocking," he told her, "But I'm the one who gets kicked out."

"Don't be mad," Harry's voice startled him, and he leapt up, turning to look at his wan partner, who was leaning on Neville's arm rather wearily. He was too pale for Ron's liking, and his hands were shaking badly, which meant his legs probably were too. His right arm was in a cotton sling, protecting his overstrained shoulder.

"What are you doing?" Hermione yelped and Ron leapt to take Harry's other side. He felt something in his chest relax when Harry leaned into him, a warm welcome weight that Ron had been afraid he'd lost forever.

"I left the hospital wing," Harry confessed, "Neville found me on the stairs."

"I thought it best to get him up here where he could rest," Neville said anxiously as they helped the shaky teen into Ron's vacated chair, "And… I didn't want to be there when Madam Pomfrey noticed Harry was out of bed."

Harry laughed, and Ron shook his head, kneeling at his friend's feet to stay in contact. The unhealthy pallor had him a little worried, but the fact that Harry had felt up to getting out of bed and walking up two flights of stairs was kind of comforting.

"Where did you get these?" he plucked at the rather violently red and green striped dressing gown and the yellow fluffy slippers. Neville had slipped away with a pat to Harry's shoulder, and Hermione had packed up her book in order to spend some time with her friends.

"Dobby," Harry shrugged, "I think they were going to either be his once he'd shrunk them or we're looking at a Christmas present for someone."

"Eek," Hermione laughed lightly, and Ron forced a small smile. Harry sighed softly, and shifted his legs, shoving himself upright and wobbling for a moment before Ron leapt up and steadied him, looking at his friend in alarm.

"I'd better be lying down when Madam Pomfrey catches up with me," he told Hermione, and Ron led him away towards their room, letting any further conversation wash over him until he'd sealed the door shut behind them. He helped Harry take off the sling and lie down, and then stepped back from the bed, his arms folded over his chest as he watched his friend catch his breath.

"Ron," Harry put his hand out, "Please. Don't do this."

"You told me to go away," Ron snapped, anger boiling over, and Harry shook his head.

"Ron, I heard everything. I only blacked out for a few minutes. I heard everything the Healers said to you. I heard everything you said to them. I know you wouldn't leave me, and I know that they were going to ship me off to St Mungo's," Harry sighed, letting his shaking hand drop to the bed once more, "You'd had to do so much, I could hear the stress in your voice. When I asked you to go, I was hoping that you'd be able to relax. To rest. To not get into trouble over me. The whole school must know you stayed with me, what will they think if it gets out about us? I mean, its different for me, I don't have a family name to ruin. I only meant for you to go out for a while. Where did you go?"

"I went to class," Ron told him, moving a little closer, "I just don't remember what we did today."

"Hermione will have notes," Harry offered a hopeful smile. Ron heaved a big sigh and climbed onto the bed, straddling Harry's hips, leaning down so he was blanketing his friend without putting too much weight on him. Harry's hands came up to touch his thighs lightly, his fingers still.

"You git," Ron mumbled into Harry's neck, "I don't care what other people think about us. I love you, you dumb shit, and if that lot outside our door can't handle that then they can sod off."

"Forgive me?" his partner stroked his hair, and Ron nodded, gripping the bright dressing gown with slightly shaking fingers. Harry sighed, and tension that Ron hadn't noticed in the body under his melted away. There was a long and comfortable silence, while they just got back into synch with each other, sharing warmth and companionship.

"I need to wash my hair," Harry said after a long silence. Ron blushed a brilliant red and cleared his throat, sitting up. Harry was scowling, but there was love in his eyes.

"Yeah… about that…"

0oo0oo0

"You're late," the Potions master sneered and Harry glanced at Hermione, startled. She checked her watch discreetly while Ron apologised in a rather tired tone. The partners had found it hard to regain their energy after the attack on the Hogwarts Express, and their recovery was not helped by the tension in the castle as the Daily Prophet reported the storm of accusations, fear and name calling. Hogwarts students had been under attack three times this year, and parents were starting to call for its closure.

Harry knew that there was a good chance that the Headmaster would be forced to send him away from Hogwarts if there was another attack. He'd already decided that he'd wait for Ron at Grimmauld Place. Once his partner had graduated from Hogwarts they'd re-plan their future together.

"Sit down," Snape was scowling at them all, and Harry shuffled to a desk at the front, sitting close to Ron, their fingers linked openly. This earned them a roll of the eyes and a sneer, but neither teen made a move to untangle.

"I'm going to instruct you on the brewing of potions that require significant amounts of magic before, during and after their preparation," Snape folded his arms and glared at all three of them, "For what reason would a wizard be required to use magic whilst brewing?"

"The ingredients being used can only be handled safely with magic," Ron spoke up dully.

"The potion itself is of a toxic nature whilst brewing that requires some distance for the safety of the brewer, until it has completed the brew and become quiescent," Harry added softly, their fingers still and limp on the desk top.

"Or the potion is of a potency that accidental exposure is instantly fatal," Ron finished the explanation for them both, as Snape's glare became incendiary. Hermione hadn't even put her hand up, as it was not her tuition they were there for, and she knew that if Snape got too angry, he'd use the slightest excuse to kick her out.

"Very well," Snape waved his wand at the board and it filled with a recipe that they had done before. The Shrinking solution wasn't difficult, but from their reading over the holidays Harry knew that several of the more common ingredients would react poorly to being prepared magically rather than manually. He could also see that Snape hadn't adjusted the recipe to allow for this. Ron's quick squeeze informed Harry that he'd also spotted this problem.

"May we make the correct substitutions to the ingredients, Professor?" Harry asked quietly. Snape's eyes flashed. He jerked a short nod at them and Harry went to the ingredients cupboard, followed closely by Ron.

They collected what they needed from the cupboard and set it out carefully, laying their equipment out precisely before standing back, joining their fingers and beginning their casting. Hermione moved to watch, and Snape snapped at her to get back out of the way. Ron made a rude comment along Harry's palm, and Harry sighed, shaking his head.

The casting went smoothly enough and the potion changed colours at the right time. They worked together to bottle it carefully, and then cleaned their desk and cauldron out carefully. Snape tested the potion, sneered at them and swept back to his desk. Harry bit back a sigh. He thought they'd been pretty impressive, given that their use of the magic had been flawless, and the potion itself obviously worked. Resigned to a term of extra rations of Snape's sarcasm he congratulated Ron with a touch.

"That will be all," Snape growled, "You may leave. Potter, I want a word."

Ron hesitated, obviously reluctant to leave Harry behind with Snape. Hermione merely gathered her things together in silence. Harry smiled at his friends and walked to Snape's desk. The Potions master waited until the door shut behind them and then looked up, his face a blank mask.

"I take it you've recovered from the other day?" his voice was uninterested and cool. Harry wondered why he was bothering to ask if he didn't care about the answer.

"Yes, thank you Professor," Harry replied politely. He didn't offer any further information, nor did he inquire about Snape. Any attempts to 'make friends' would be met with extreme derision. He had no intention of letting Snape think that he was trying to curry favour with anyone.

"Get out, then," Snape turned away and Harry trudged over to the door, feeling a little disappointed. For a moment he thought that Snape might have been about to say thank you, or at least say something nice. Ron and Hermione were waiting just outside and Harry rolled his eyes at them.

"Relax, he just asked if I'd recovered," he shook his head, "That's all."

"I'm telling you, Harry, there's something strange going on with Snape," Ron took Harry's elbow, "In fact the whole school's gone positively weird."

"They're nervous about the Death Eaters," Hermione frowned as they headed up to the Great Hall for tea, "The attack on the train is a big deal. This is the first time most of the students have ever had to practice what we learn in Defence Against the Dark Arts. And the younger students were almost totally defenceless, which has got their parents really worried."

They reached the Great Hall in silence, and it seemed that the tension that had been hanging over the school since they'd survived the attack on the Express had reached breaking point. Several people shot them nasty looks, and Harry felt his gut clench. He couldn't concentrate on classes and the partnership and Ron if he also had to worry about defending himself from the student body in general.

"There's a huge house meeting tonight," Neville whispered as they sat down, "We're staying here after tea."

Harry's appetite fled.

0oo0oo0

It appeared that all four houses had decided to hold a meeting in the Great Hall, and it was also quickly apparent once the teachers had left that the topic up for discussion was Harry's continued attendance at the school. There had been a lot of press coverage in the Daily Prophet of the attacks that had occurred this year, and Rita Skeeter had led the way with malicious gossip and thinly veiled accusations. Nearly the whole school had read the articles, and Harry was not surprised that they had decided to take matters into their own hands.

Ron was standing at the head of the Gryffindor table, shouting at people that it wasn't Harry's fault, and they had no right to judge him for something he'd no control over. Hermione was going toe to toe with Cho Chang, who apparently felt it was best that Harry leave the school in order to save the rest of the students. Hermione was shouting that Harry wasn't the only target, and Millicent Bulstrode - who had been listening closely with a malignant look on her face - shrieked something about that being a lie, and if Harry hadn't been there the Death Eaters would never have attacked anyone. Harry shook his head and jumped up to stand on the Gryffindor table, drawing everyone's attention.

"This is exactly what Voldemort wants!" he yelled at the top of his lungs, and the name silenced his fellow students like a switch being thrown. They gaped up at him, and Harry took a deep breath.

"Look, old Tom Riddle wants us fighting amongst ourselves. He wants us so divided that we can't possibly work together against him," he continued in a quieter tone, "That's the very least of it - if he can, Tom Riddle probably wants Hogwarts shut down. Think about it - this is the place that teaches people to resist him, to think for themselves."

"The fact is that if you weren't here, then the Death Eaters wouldn't be attacking us!" Bulstrode stood up, a superior kind of smirk on her face. Harry shook his head, aware that the rest of the school was waiting for him to reply. He wasn't a speechmaker, and he hated that the only way to quell the rumours now was to do it like this.

"Millicent, if the sole aim of these attacks was to kill me, then I'd have died in their first attack," he held up a hand sharply when she made to speak, "I was standing off to one side of the common room, behind Hermione and Ron, waiting for them to finish their 'welcome to Gryffindor, we are the Prefects' speech. When the Death Eaters snuck in behind the seventh years I was completely vulnerable. They only had to cast the Avada Kedavra curse and I'd never have known what hit me."

"The fact is that you are the main target!" Millicent didn't sound so sure of herself, and Harry shook his head. People were whispering to each other, some nodding in agreement, hands waving as one or another made a point. He was number one on Voldemort's 'people to kill' list, but the attacks were not aimed solely at him.

"She's wrong," Ron stood up and they quieted to listen to him, "Tom's after all of us. We're the next line of defence against him, he needs to get rid of us now, before we learn how to kill him."

"Who's Tom?" Cho Chang asked despite herself, and Neville grinned, standing up and looking around. Harry felt such a sweep of relief that he and Ron weren't being left to stir the students out of their self-involved fears. If the school were shut down it would be a calamity. The next generation of possible fighters would be horribly unprepared for the task of defeating the Dark Lord.

"Its You-Know-Who's real name," the silence that followed that little announcement was stunned, and Harry bit his lip. Dumbledore had never told the students about Voldemort's past and he wasn't sure why, but Harry knew that they all had to know the truth. He walked to the end of the table and jumped down, moving up the steps to stand in front of the empty staff table.

"About fifty years ago… well maybe sixty, I'm not sure, Tom Marvolo Riddle was born. His mother died not long after, but lived long enough to call him Tom Riddle after his Muggle father, and Marvolo after his grandfather. His father denied his obligation, and Tom grew up in a Muggle Orphanage, coming to Hogwarts when he was eleven like the rest of us. He was put in Slytherin, and it turned out he was Slytherins Heir. He was a Prefect and he worked hard, but when he left school he got ensnared in the Dark Arts. He hated Muggles, and Muggle-borns and he hated that he hadn't managed to set the Basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets on the Muggle-borns. He started the Death Eaters and started killing to gain power. You all know he failed," Harry looked around rather shyly, "When we fought in the Chamber of Secrets, Tom Riddle showed me how he'd changed the letters of his name to Lord Voldemort."

The flinch was almost universal, and Harry did his best not to sigh in disgust. They had to get over their instinctive fear of that name - it was the only way they'd be able to defeat Voldemort in the future.

"Gryffindor calls him Tom Riddle instead," Ron said to the Hall, grinning up at Harry and tipping him a sly wink, "We're not going to give in to him."

The Gryffindor table all beamed and nodded, and there was another swell of quiet discussion.

"This is all well and good, but you have to admit that Potter is a major target," Malfoy spoke up, "He is the Boy Who Lived, and we all know that the Dark Lord is after him."

"You weren't listening were you?" Dean Thomas spoke up derisively, "They were on us before we even knew they were there - twice in fact, first when they burned our tower and second when they attacked the Ball. What do you think they're going to do, attack Harry when he knows they're there, or sneak up and kill him?"

"They haven't killed anyone - none of the Unforgivable Curses have been cast," Harry pointed out, his arms folded, "There's something else going on here - Riddle is a master at manipulating people and events to suit him. We can either do his dirty work for him, or stand together."

"They killed Diggory," Crabbe's words rolled across the Hall, and Harry felt himself pale. He lifted his chin and looked Crabbe in the eye. The fact that it was the son of a Death Eater levelling this charge did not escape him, and Harry wondered if some of his classmates were starting to question their parents' choices. He hoped so, that might make this whole scene worthwhile. In the meantime there was an accusation to answer, and unfortunately he was the only one who could.

"Yes, they did."

0oo0oo0


	8. 3rd term, sixth year 2

Ron thought that they might have been winning people over with their arguments for a while there. They reminded the other Houses that Gryffindor had fought to protect all of them, laying aside the usual House rivalry in the emergency. They had established that the main emotion running through the demands that Harry be expelled, or the Houses split from each other permanently for their own protection, was fear. The Prefects had managed to shoot down the most ridiculous rumours and reassure the more fearful students that they were not living with traitors and people who were about to murder them in their beds.

Millicent Bulstrode was too stupid to offer either himself or his friend much competition when it came to a debate, and the rest of the houses were at least listening. There were a few people talking together, mainly discussing what was being said. The other Prefects seemed happy to let Harry take the brunt of the students fear and anger, which made Ron a little mad until he realised that Harry was better qualified to answer the accusations being thrown around. He actually thought they were winning until Crabbe spoke up.

"They killed Diggory," Crabbe's words rolled across the Hall, and Ron watched with a sinking heart as his best friend went pale. He felt a flash of pride when Harry lifted his chin and looked Crabbe in the eye.

"Yes, they did."

The quiet words silenced another round of whispers, and Ron bit his lip as Harry began to speak haltingly of the night that Cedric Diggory was killed by Peter Pettigrew at Riddle's command. He always suspected that Harry had faced some torture, not to mention the responsibility that he must have felt that the student had died simply because he wasn't Harry. His heart grew cold as Harry described the way Voldemort had been returned to his body, and he sent all the strength he could to his shaky partner when the end of the tale came around.

The students sat in silence. There were a few in tears, and even the Slytherin table was obviously thinking about what had been said. Ron honestly couldn't tell what was going to happen now, but he knew that they had to make some kind of decision here. The school would not survive a rift between the Houses, and the teachers would not be able to force unity upon them. This was something they had to do for themselves.

"I don't know what Professor Dumbledore intends to do," Harry sighed at last, breaking the silence. Ron could see that the prospect of Hogwarts closing forever was truly depressing his partner, "I don't know how he'll keep you all safe. But I know that if we tear the school apart from the inside we're doing Riddle's work for him - and I don't want any part of that."

"So this is what we should do," Hermione spoke up suddenly, "We stick together. We abolish the House tables - everyone should mix in together at meals and lessons."

"What about Quidditch?" someone asked, while Ron admired the rather daring proposition. It would solve the immediate problem, though the threat of Tom Riddle would loom over them all until he was defeated forever. Harry laughed, drawing Ron's eyes once more. His partner looked so sexy up there, so strong and resolved.

"If you think I'm not going to compete the hardest I can in our next match against Hufflepuff, you need to wake up," the response had people laughing lightly, and Hermione sent him a slightly cross look. The mood had changed though; Ron thought they were winning here.

"To sum up," Ron spoke before she could, "We agree to unite the school in lessons and free time. We agree not to go off the deep end the next time Riddle makes a move against us. We agree to fight together."

"We agree!" Gryffindor put their hands up. They glared at the other Houses, daring them to take the challenge up, to reunite the school.

"We agree," to Ron's shock the Slytherin House was next, raising their hands unanimously. Ron had expected the students that had Death Eaters for parents would choose not to join their push for unity. Malfoy's hand was as high as anybody's and Ron made a mental note to keep an eye on the slimy git.

"We agree," Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff joined the consensus, and Ron smiled up at his very pale and relieved partner.

0oo0oo0

"You were marvellous," Ron licked around Harry's ear, and his partner snorted. They were lying on their bed, their clothes dropped in a pile by the door, stripped off in a hurry while they kissed frantically, bodies rubbing sensuously.

"Aren't you supposed to say that after you've shagged me?" Harry's hands were gripping Ron's naked hips. Ron laughed and leaned back, making his partner growl and reach up to yank him down again.

"I meant you were marvellous talking them into unifying the school," Ron sucked on Harry's shoulder, their hips pushing together in slow rhythm.

"Mmmmmm," Harry purred and wrapped a leg around him, more interested in the way their dicks were rubbing slowly together than any evaluation of his public speaking abilities. Ron gave up, moving to balance himself and drive the rhythm forward, sending them into a gasping, writhing frenzy that seemed to last forever and yet end too quickly.

"Marvellous," Harry gasped for breath and Ron snorted into his neck, slipping to one side just enough to let Harry breathe. Ron petted the sweat and fluid covered body he was laying on tenderly, reaching up to play with messy dark hair as well.

"This term hasn't been much fun, has it?" he muttered, and Harry sighed, catching the hand that was stroking his chest. The dark head turned on its pillow and Ron's fingers were massaged gently.

"The last five minutes were bloody good," green eyes twinkled at Ron, "We're together and that's good too. It's alright, Ron."

"Harry," Ron let go, rolled over and sat up, running a hand through his own hair, "You've been nearly killed, Snape's gone all bizarre on us, and the school wants to kick you out. How can that be alright?"

"Because you git," Harry sat up too and straddled Ron's lap easily, grabbing his startled friend by the ears and kissing him passionately. Ron clutched the warm body in his lap and moaned into the hot mouth that was trying to excavate his tonsils. Harry pulled back gasping and fixed him with a very solid look.

"I didn't die, and neither did you. Snape's always been twisted in some way, and the school isn't going to kick me out," he said firmly, and Ron grinned weakly. There was no resisting Harry when he was like this - so sexy, focussed and determined. He felt certain bits that Harry was sitting on perk up and take notice. From the look on Harry's face his partner had noticed too.

"Good point," Ron nodded, "Let's talk about something else."

"I wasn't planning on bloody talking," Harry growled and wriggled suggestively.

"Yeah? What were you planning?" Ron asked and laughed when Harry pounced on him, knocking him flat and giving a very detailed demonstration of his plan.

0oo0oo0

Harry followed his friend as Ron led the way over to the Hufflepuff table and sat down beside Justin Finch-Fletchley, stacking their plates while Harry fished out the money for the owl. Beth Dunn was sitting over at the Ravenclaw table, and Hermione had settled rather pointedly at the Slytherin table with Ginny, Neville, Seamus and Dean. A brief glance at the teacher's tables showed that the staff was rather bemused at this turn of events. Dumbledore was smiling a little though, and Harry turned his attention back to the people around him. They were nervous, that much was obvious, and one or two were seated in their habitual spots, glaring around defiantly.

"Morning Potter," Malfoy's voice sounded in his ear and Harry forced himself not to move as the Slytherin Prefect took the empty seat beside him. Thankfully the owl from the Daily Prophet landed then, hooting reproachfully at them for moving from their usual spot.

"Get used to it, we'll be moving around a lot," Harry told it firmly and paid, taking the paper and handing it to Ron, who was scraping eggs onto toast for them both. Harry was aware of the waiting presence next to him, and was also aware that Malfoy would use the slightest hint of reluctance on Harry's part - real or imagined - to sabotage their plan before it started.

"Morning Malfoy," Harry replied politely, glancing over at the pale sneering face, "What's in the paper, Ron?"

Their hands were knotted together, though Ron was doing his best not to make nasty comments that would force a reaction from Harry. They both knew that they'd be the ones under the most scrutiny - Harry because of who the students thought he was, and Ron because he was always at Harry's side. Harry took a bite of his eggs and toast, leaving Malfoy to his own devices.

"They're going to try and get the Seven Nations Cup put on next year instead," Ron spoke with his mouth full, but Harry was able to decipher that fairly easily after nearly nine months together. Malfoy, however, laughed unpleasantly, and Harry quelled his irritation with the boy.

"What was that, Weasley?" Malfoy laughed, and Crabbe and Goyle joined in with the noise. Malfoy's thugs had been made to sit across from them all. It was not a sight that was conducive to a healthy appetite, and Harry wondered spitefully if that was how Malfoy stayed so thin, despite all the sweets and things that his mother sent every week. Despite Harry's naming of Lucius Malfoy as a Death Eater there hadn't been any long-term changes in Malfoy's attitude or apparent circumstances.

"He said that the Department of Magical Games and Sports has rescheduled the Seven Nations Cup for next year," Harry translated. Malfoy's sneer evaporated and he leaned in for a look. Ron's disgust and sympathy rippled over Harry's palm, and he grinned at his partner lightly.

"Potter," Snape's voice sounded from behind them, and Harry felt the smile dry up as he turned to face the Potions master. The man was standing slightly to one side and holding a thin book in his hands.

"Yes Professor Snape?" Harry asked, dropping his toast onto the paper to take the book when Snape held it out.

"You and Weasley will have read this carefully by Sunday," Snape swept away without further conversation, and Harry sighed, handing Ron the book and picking his toast back up. Malfoy was staring at them curiously.

"You're really doing remedial potions?" he asked, and for once there didn't seem to be a sneer in his voice, which was odd because this was prime sneering material. Ron bristled anyway, and Harry soothed him with a soft caress.

"We asked Professor Snape to give us extra tuition this term," Harry replied in a flat voice, and Malfoy sneered finally, displaying the attitude that Harry had expected of him. Breakfast was over by then thankfully, and Harry went to Charms with only the front page read and not much appetite for dinner.

This practice of unity was going to be a lot harder than he thought if Malfoy was going to be so subtly undermining him every time they met.

0oo0oo0

The book that Professor Snape had given them was a handwritten journal. It looked well read - probably by Snape - and the first thing Ron did was make a copy of it for their own use. Madam Pince had helped him do it when he explained to her that he didn't want to risk anything happening to one of the teachers' personal books.

Harry had hit his borrowing limit at the library while Ron had worked with Madam Pince, collecting the advanced potion texts that they would need to understand what the journal was telling them, and Ron ended up going back for a series of spell books that tied in with the subject matter.

Hermione was fascinated by the journal, but had no time to read it, as the first and second years were being a little fractious in response to the sudden unity that the school was trying to practice. She was also working under the usual heavy end of year workload, revising for exams already, and nagging Harry and Ron about it. They also had a heavy homework load, Quidditch finals coming up, and Snape wasn't letting them off the potions homework either. Both teens were working late into the night in order to fully understand what the potion in the journal was trying to tell them, which meant they were low on sleep.

The match against Hufflepuff was one of the shortest in Hogwarts history, as Harry caught the snitch in the first fifteen seconds of the match in order to give himself and Ron more study time. They were due to see Snape first thing Sunday morning and hadn't finished reviewing the planning for the casting portion of brewing under the journals instructions. There was a slightly disappointed tone to the cheers from Gryffindor - no doubt his Housemates felt a little let down, as the quaffle hadn't even made it more than a third of the way down the pitch.

Ron and Harry hurried through the showers in the Gryffindor change rooms and then hurried back to their studies, taking their books to a dark corner of the library to avoid the rest of their House. The last match of the season for Gryffindor was just before the exams, as Hufflepuff would be playing Slytherin next for third place in the cup, and then Ravenclaw would play Gryffindor to decide second and first place.

Sunday morning was bright and Ron wished that they were allowed to go out and sit around the grounds to study like so many of their friends had. Instead he trailed Harry down to the dungeons, with Hermione in tow behind them. Snape met them in the usual classroom and waved them to seats.

"Well?" he held out a hand and Ron fished out the journal, returning it to the Professor before fishing out their copy and putting it in front of them. Snape scowled but didn't protest the copy - probably relieved that he wouldn't have to risk his in the brewing.

"It's a potion to make synthetic Phoenix tears," Ron tapped their copy in its dark blue cover, "Tears of the Phoenix has been designed for Healers to use under controlled circumstances to heal the worst magical maladies that the Wizarding world faces."

"Due to the fact that real Phoenix tears are unstable, and only last for a few seconds outside the body of the Phoenix - unless they are placed directly in a wound - their use by Healers has been limited. Supply cannot meet demand, as it takes considerable effort for the Phoenix to produce the tears. Additionally, Fawkes is the only Phoenix currently choosing to live with a Wizard, which means that the Healers have to petition for his assistance each time," Harry completed the summation of their research, and Ron took up the thread again.

"Tears of the Phoenix can only be brewed by use of Sympathetic Magic as it requires more strength than any one Wizard possesses, and multiple, simultaneous uses of magic as well. According to the journal it also requires favourable conjunctions of several natural forces, which occur once every two months. We are entering the beginning of that time now," he bit back a smile at the cold-eyed stare that Snape was directing them, and the excited gaze of Hermione. She probably didn't know that they could research like that, after years of nagging them to read more and study harder.

"Very well," Snape gestured sharply to the door that led into his private workspace. Slytherin students had been in there once or twice - Ron was fairly sure that Malfoy worked in there as Snape's assistant on a regular basis - but as far as Ron knew no one from their house had been inside.

There was a cauldron set over a low hearth, suspended in the middle of the round chamber by chains hanging from the ceiling. There was a bench nearby, scarred and pitted with years of use, which contained the ingredients necessary for the brewing of the potion. Ron conjured up a small bookstand to hold their copy of the journal and watched as Harry reviewed the ingredients.

They had decided last night that Harry would take care of the preparation and Ron would control the brewing, with both of them setting the wards they would need to control and protect the cauldron and their audience. If this potion worked they'd have to find a private place where they could brew it on a regular basis for St Mungo's - but that was in the future. They had to prove that they could brew it correctly first.

"We call on the four winds…" Ron raised his wand, pointing it at the cauldron and beginning the first of the incantations that this potion required.

0oo0oo0

The twelve crystal decanters glowed softly in the light from the torches, the miniature Phoenix's inside swirling and reforming over and over - proof that they had correctly followed the journals instructions. The potion itself was an iridescent white, and Harry whispered the last of the stasis sealing charms over the decanters before stepping back and letting go of their focus gently. Ron put an arm around Harry's waist and he leaned into the touch, tired but delighted that they had succeeded.

"Thank you," the voice was soft and sincere, and didn't sound like Snape at all. Harry blinked over at the Potions master and then nodded politely. Hermione moved over to them and hugged them both. Harry had caught a glimpse of her reading over Snape's shoulder as they brewed, so he knew that she had at least followed their progress if not understanding why they did it the way they did.

"You'd best go to the kitchens and eat," Snape moved forward, "I have already warned the house elf's to be watching for you. I will tell you tomorrow if the potion was potent."

Harry nodded and Ron stirred, leaning in to drop a kiss on his cheek before letting go and heading for the door. Harry heard his partner's stomach growl and grinned at Hermione, though he was starving too. Hermione rolled her eyes and fell into step with them.

"That was so…" she trailed off, and Harry took her hand without thinking, smiling at her when she glanced at him in astonishment. It felt good to reach out, and he knew that he was safe to do so with Hermione. She wouldn't hurt him, and she knew that his relationship with Ron was solid. She squeezed his fingers warmly.

"Impressive? Bloody brilliant? Wicked?" Ron tossed the suggestions over his shoulder as he led the way to the kitchen. Harry tipped Hermione a warning wink and added his own suggestion.

"Sexy?"

"Sexy!" Hermione agreed instantly while Ron stumbled in surprise and then turned around. He glared at their joined hands and came back to slip his arm around Harry's waist again.

"Sexy?" he purred in Harry's ear, and the dark haired boy felt a treacherous stir of interest below the waist. He flushed and cleared his throat while Hermione went into gales of laughter, stumbling on the flagstones and having to balance herself on the wall.

"Come on, I'm hungry," Harry told them both and Ron tickled his waist lightly as they reached the portrait with the bowl of fruit. Hermione tickled the pear and they went in. Dobby was waiting for them, and ushered them to a small table in a corner. The main hearth was burning merrily, and there was an empty stool sitting to one side of it.

"Dobby, what happened to Winky?" Harry asked, remembering the miserably ashamed house elf that had once served the late Barty Crouch. Dobby sighed sadly and shook his head.

"Winky went to Azkaban to stay with her masters son," he looked up at Harry unhappily, "Winky would not listen to Dobby, or to Professor Dumbledore. Poor Winky is in a very bad place."

"I'm sorry Dobby," Harry said rather uselessly, "I didn't know that they'd sent Crouch back to Azkaban. I thought that they'd put him in St Mungo's."

"Minister Fudge wouldn't let them!" Dobby looked positively incensed, "It was cruel!"

The other house elves were nodding in agreement, though none of them spoke up. Hermione had tears in her eyes, and Ron was sitting with his hands in his lap, his face rather pale.

"Is there anything we can do?" he asked, "Maybe get a petition going like we did to shut up that Skeeter skag."

Dobby shook his head and several of the house elves managed rather watery smiles.

"Master Wheezy is very kind," Dobby patted the redhead on the knee, "Winky has made her choice to stay with her master. We is having to accept that. Master Wheezy should eat before it gets cold."

Harry felt his appetite return after the first few mouthfuls and knew that Ron was feeling better when his friend's foot hooked around his ankle under the table.

0oo0oo0

On their regular Monday afternoon session, Professor Snape had sneered at them that the potion was 'adequate' and that they were expected in the Headmasters office. Ron had waited until they were halfway there before airing his opinion of their potion master.

"Ron," Harry shook his head. The redhead subsided, aware that Harry was pale and tired still, though Ron had woken feeling refreshed this morning. He hoped that Snape didn't have any other terribly difficult potions to brew between now and the end of term.

"Sorry mate," Ron shook his head, "Its just… we bust a gut to get that bloody stuff made up for him and he doesn't even… forget it, it's not important. You still feeling tired?"

"Yeah," Harry' response was kind of hesitant and Ron stopped him with a hand to his arm. He looked his friend over carefully and frowned. Harry was biting his lips to keep from crying out, his eyes miserable.

"What's wrong?" he asked bluntly, and Harry's fingers crept up to the scar hidden behind his messy fringe. Ron sighed and reached up to touch the scar himself, stopping when he heard footsteps. Malfoy appeared around the corner, alone for a change, and Ron bit back a scowl. This whole unity thing was starting to be a drag - it was easier to simply hate Malfoy than be friendly with him, but for Harry's sake he'd try. There had been no further call for his partner to be sent away from the school and with a bit of luck they'd heard the last of that stupid idea.

"What are you two doing here?" Malfoy asked them, and Ron rolled his eyes. The blonde git just never gave up. He sat with them at meals; he hung around them in the library. Ron didn't think it was out of any desire to become friends or turn away from his fathers Death Eater friends, he figured Malfoy was spying on them for his father and made sure not to give away any of their secrets when the Slytherin Prefect was near. This made for somewhat stilted mealtime conversations, but was better than the alternative. He and Harry had stopped discussing their personal life or plans in public altogether, speaking of the house and their future only when alone together behind a spelled door.

"We've been told to go to Professor Dumbledore," Ron replied, letting Malfoy think that they were in trouble. His idea succeeded when the pale eyes lit up gleefully, though Malfoy didn't make any comment on it. Harry simply turned and started walking again, and Ron followed along in his friends wake happily, part of him wishing that the uniform robes didn't hide the body of the wearer so effectively. When Malfoy walked along with them, Ron reversed that opinion, glad that the blonde didn't know what a sexy body was hidden under the billowing black cloth.

"We're here to see the Headmaster," Harry put a hand on the gargoyle that guarded Dumbledore's tower, as neither of them knew the password. Ron grinned when it nodded and stepped aside, revealing the moving stairs. Malfoy hung back, earning himself a nasty glare from the stone thing, as Ron and Harry disappeared up the tower. Once out of sight, Ron moved to hold Harry in his arms, reaching up warm fingers to massage the back of Harry's neck, trying to ease the pain.

"I wish I could do something for you," Ron fretted as Harry sighed and leaned into him heavily. He felt warm lips press a kiss to his neck and smiled into the dark hair. Touch was their most vital connection, and he was relieved that Harry could ask for it when he needed to. The top of the stairs approached and Ron turned Harry around enough to get him off safely, before heading them slowly for the door. He could hear Fawkes inside, trilling to the Headmaster, and the door opened as they reached it. Dumbledore looked very worried and Ron shuffled them forward, heading for the couch that they'd sat on to listen to Legales tell Harry about his estate.

"His scar is hurting him again," Ron got them settled, his fingers rubbing Harry's neck again and feeling a little of the tension seep away. Dumbledore made a humming noise and sat in the armchair opposite them, looking concerned. Harry sighed after a long moment and sat up, a little shaky but with more colour in his face than before.

"Riddle is angry. I think that he's discovered a traitor in his ranks," Harry told them shakily, "It's not Snape, though, I get the face of a woman."

"Is she in his hands?" Dumbledore leaned forward and Harry shook his head, clutching Ron's fingers. Dumbledore looked over at Fawkes who disappeared with a bright flash. Ron figured that the Phoenix was going to warn the spy, whoever she was, and smiled at his friend in encouragement.

"Professor Snape tells me that you have successfully brewed Tears of the Phoenix yesterday," Dumbledore smiled over at them, "That is an extraordinary accomplishment, boys. Tears of the Phoenix may be used to alleviate the bite of a werewolf, and I have persuaded the Healers at St Mungo's to contact Professor Lupin for trial treatments."

Ron felt Harry brighten beside him and beamed happily. Lupin was the last of the Marauders and Harry had always been a little concerned about his health. The life of a werewolf was a stressful one. Dumbledore conjured a tea tray onto the low table in front of them and Ron leaned over to make Harry a cup of tea. Harry didn't like to be fussed over as a rule, but Ron could usually get away with it.

"You wanted to see us, Headmaster?" Ron asked when he was sure that Harry was settled comfortably. Dumbledore was watching them with a twinkle in his eye and Ron wondered what was so amusing.

"Yes, I wanted to speak to you about your plans for the summer," the blue eyes crinkled at the corners, "I understand you're planning to build a house?"

"Yes," Harry nodded, "We're going to camp in the garden while its built, and live like Muggles for the holidays. Riddle won't find us there."

"An excellent plan," Dumbledore held up a hand and some of the tension Ron and Harry felt was eased. For a horrible moment Ron had thought that the Headmaster was going to veto their plans, "I have a few suggestions to make your holidays a little more comfortable."

0oo0oo0

"I'm knackered," Harry complained, throwing himself down onto the grass. Ron dropped his bag beside him and dropped down in an untidy heap, "Exams suck."

"You sure don't," Ron griped, and Harry rolled onto his back, fixing Ron with a weak glare. They'd been interrupted this morning and Ron had been in a foul mood all day. Harry's Tarot exam with Trelawny had been rather difficult as a result when it predicted a turbulent time with a lover, and she had become all interested and enthusiastic.

"That was not my choice," he reminded his friend, "As I recall I wanted to keep going and you got all paranoid."

Flynn had made a lot of noise to get them to open the window and Ron had been worried that their fellow Housemates had heard the racket. He'd lost interest in their bed play and by the time he'd been talked around the breakfast signal had sounded and Harry had reluctantly peeled himself away to get dressed. They couldn't afford to miss a meal, as they were both still being watched closely by their fellow students.

"Do I want to know?" Hermione asked and Harry laughed as Ron went bright red and shook his head frantically. Deciding to tease his lover just a little Harry sat up and pouted.

"He wouldn't let me play with my favourite toy," he whined to Hermione, who also went red when she realised what he meant and hit him in the arm. Harry flopped back onto the grass, rubbing his arm and laughing at their splutters.

"You'll get yours," Ron muttered and Hermione gasped, laughing so hard she joined Harry on the grass when Ron realised what he'd said and moaned, hiding his face.

"That's the plan!" Harry gasped out, and Hermione rolled so she was face down, screaming with laughter. Harry went into fresh convulsions watching her, and Ron shook his head, tears streaming down his face. The jokes weren't that funny, but the release felt good.

"Stop! Stop! Stop!" she shrieked, "I don't want to know!"

"Aw Hermy!" Ron wheezed, "Why not?"

She buried her face in the grass and howled, with Harry curling up to relieve the stitch in his side from laughter. Ron flopped onto his back, one out flung hand landing on Harry's. The sun was blocked out for a moment and Harry squinted up at the person standing over them.

"Something funny?" Cho Chang asked, and Harry sobered up a little, sitting up to regain his breath while Hermione hiccupped in laughter and Ron's laughter trailed off into a series of snorts.

"Not really," he wiped the tears from under his glasses and took a few shaky breaths, "Just something silly."

"Oh," Chang looked confused, but brushed that aside, "Can I talk to you Harry?"

"Sure," Harry nodded, and realised that she meant alone when she looked impatient. He got up, using Ron's shoulder as a crutch, letting his fingers reassure his partner that he'd be right back. He left his bag with his friends, sticking his hands in his pockets and walking along at Cho's side, wandering past other groups of students who had come out to enjoy the June sunshine.

They walked past the low to the ground window that let light into Snape's personal brewing chamber. He and Ron had brewed the Tears of the Phoenix twice since they'd first been given Snape's journal, and moved on to other potions that were just as difficult and complex. Harry was actually enjoying the extra lessons more than their usual class, perhaps because he was able to work so closely with Ron. Harry noticed that there were no other students around now, and looked at Cho who was biting her lip as she walked around the lake with him.

"You know, if you ask to speak to someone you usually need to actually talk to them," Harry prodded a little impatiently. They had to study tonight, and he knew that Cho was taking NEWTS this year, so her workload must have been enormous.

"Oh," she dithered a moment, glancing at him and flushing, "Um, I… I wanted to talk to you… about what you said in the Great Hall."

"When you were trying to get the rest of the school to kick me out," Harry nodded, not at all ashamed when she coloured at the jibe and gave him a miserable glance.

"You told us about…" Cho trailed off again. Harry realised what she was hinting at and sighed. He really didn't want to talk this over again.

"About Cedric," Harry kept his voice flat and unemotional, "About how he died and what Voldemort did to me."

"Yes," Cho's whisper was dry, and Harry shook his head in anger. He had told her last year he didn't want to discuss this, and still she was pushing.

"I said all I'm going to say that evening," he told her, stopping short and turning to face her, "Look, I'm sorry you lost your boyfriend, but I'm not going to relive that night for you over and over. I didn't exactly have fun the first time it happened, and every time someone makes me tell it I live through the whole thing over and again in my sleep for weeks. I know that's incredibly selfish of me, and I'm sorry but you'll just have to deal with it, ok?"

He stomped away from her wide eyes and pale face, heading back to his partner, the laughter of the afternoon wiped away by an ugly memory and past pain.

0oo0oo0

Ron didn't know what Cho Chang had said to Harry to make him look that grim, but he knew better than to force his partner to sit through a 'unified' dinner. He gave Hermione the high sign and Harry sat down at the Gryffindor table for dinner surrounded by his Housemates. Malfoy joined them at the Gryffindor table, but was far enough away not to be able to needle them with his oh so casual questions and subtle digs. Hermione was sitting opposite them with Neville, who was telling them about the offer Professor Sprout had made to let him work in the school greenhouses for a part of the summer holidays. The positive comments from the Gryffindor Housemates drowned out the snide comments from Malfoy and Harry seemed to revive a little over pudding.

Ron glanced up at the staff table as they were leaving and Hagrid beckoned him over. He handed Ron a slip of paper and the Gryffindor Prefect stuffed the parchment in his pocket with a grin. From the twinkle in the half giants eyes the parchment contained good news. He hoped it was something that would cheer Harry up, because the pale face and dark circles under the green eyes were beginning to alarm Ron.

"What are we looking at tonight?" Harry asked in a tired voice as they climbed the stairs and Ron shook his head. He thought that tonight should be spent together, cuddling if that was all Harry was in the mood for. Despite his earlier complaints about his current lack of a sex life, Ron was happy to just be with Harry.

"Charms," Hermione spoke over her shoulder and Neville groaned, shaking his head. The Charms work had gotten more and more intricate - and next year they were facing setting protective wards, a tricky proposition as Harry and Ron had learned. They split up to get their books and Ron pulled the piece of parchment out of his pocket.

"Hagrid wants to see us at ten," he told Harry, "He's cleared it with the Headmaster and we have to take this with us to keep Filch off our necks."

"Ok," Harry sighed and Ron glanced at the closed door. He leaned in close and gave Harry a gentle kiss, smiling against slightly chapped lips when Harry wrapped himself around Ron and held on tight, returning the kiss slowly. Ron's fingers offered to lock the door and hide in here until it was time to go see Hagrid, but Harry vetoed the idea, insisting that they study.

"Stuck with me," Ron muttered into Harry's ear, hanging on tightly, and Harry nodded. Ron held on for a moment more and then let go, letting Harry step back and pull his Charms books off the shelves.

They told Hermione and Neville about the appointment, and at ten precisely they walked out onto the front steps, moving down the path by the light of the full moon.

"Harry!" a voice called and Ron turned with his partner to look at the thin careworn man standing in front of Hagrid's hut. Ron broke into a huge grin, glancing up at the full moon and then back at his partner. Harry was glowing.

"It worked," he whispered and Ron nodded, turning to look at Remus Lupin, standing in the worn blue robes that he'd worn the last time they saw him, the full moon shining down and totally not affecting him at all.

"It worked!" Harry yelled and ran forward to hug the last of the Marauders. Lupin pounded Harry on the back, and Hagrid loomed from the shadows of his hut, beaming widely. Ron laughed and reached out to pat Lupin on the shoulder, genuinely pleased that their potion had been able to help the man.

"It worked!" Harry laughed, turning to hug Ron close and knocking him over, "It worked!"

"Geeze mate!" Ron hugged Harry back and wriggled out from under. Whatever Cho had said to Harry was totally obliterated by the smile on Harry's face, and the pride in his eyes. Their hard work had paid off and the reward was one of the best things that they could ever ask for. The end of year tests would be over in a few days and then they had the summer to look forward to.

Ron was shaken out of his thoughts when Harry and Hagrid seized a hand each, their other wrapped around Lupin's fingers. He danced in the circle with them, chanting 'it worked' over and over until they lost their breath and had to sit down, beaming at each other in the light of the full moon.

0oo0oo0


	9. Summer Hols again

****

Further warnings: this is just a totally worthless bit of (sometimes sappy) fluff! Time the boys relaxed, had a bit of fun, a lot of sex and started looking to the future… PS - I _know_ that a total neophyte can't read a manual and then get onto a motorbike without having at least a _few_ problems…but we are talking _magic_ here…

****

Sympathetic Magic: Part Five - Summer Holidays

"Are you sure you want to do it this way?" Molly Weasley's kind face was a little concerned, and Ron smiled at his mum with affection. Always in the back of his mind he knew that her fussing and worrying was motivated by love for her children and an honest wish to see them happy.

"It's the easiest way, mum. We'll meet Professor Dumbledore in Diagon Alley, get the Muggle tests out of the way and then pick up what we need before going out to the house," he reassured her, and she frowned a little, looking over at Harry. Ron had to admit that Harry just hadn't put on as much weight as the Weasley's would have liked, but he looked heaps better than he had last summer. He understood that his mother was worried about his friends health - Harry was pale despite the sunny days they'd been having.

"I'm not happy about those tests either," she shook her head, "I mean, really, a flying motorcycle? It's not a safe way to travel. What's wrong with brooms?"

"Muggles aren't accustomed to seeing brooms flying about the country side, and it's a little risky to just Apparate to the Muggle areas we want to see during the house building," Ron explained, "Harry and I want to have a real holiday, and not worry about the Ministry or anything."

To be truthful Ron was worried about his partner's health. Harry had been getting paler and quieter as the term wore on, and the news that their potion had cured Remus Lupin had only helped a little. His partner needed a complete break, and some time to make pleasant memories. Ron was determined to give both to him.

"But living like Muggles," Molly protested and Harry laughed lightly, reaching out to put his hand on her arm. Ginny was wandering around in the garden outside, getting Errol to take little flights around the garden after her. He was definitely on his last legs, and Ron would miss the old bird when he finally passed on.

"It's for the best, Aunt Molly," Harry recalled Ron's attention to the kitchen table, "We'll be hiding in plain sight, and it will be fun. Besides we'll charm some of the gear to make things a little easier for us."

"Well, we're only a short Apparate away," Ron's mum sighed, "And I'll see you both on your birthdays - you're to come here for them, no excuses. And if you ever need a real home cooked meal, then you just come home, no advance warning needed."

"Of course we will mum," Ron soothed and put his hand next to Harry's. She got a little dewy eyed and Ron reared back in alarm. His mother sniffed at him dismissively and then sent them upstairs to pack the bags they were planning to take camping tomorrow.

He closed the door to his room and smiled rather foolishly at the bed. His parents hadn't been able to fit a double into his tiny room, but they had widened his old bed a little, which meant he and Harry had a little more room. Harry was bending over the rucksack he'd bought in Hogsmeade on the last weekend trip, and Ron slapped a privacy spell on the door before slipping up behind his partner and goosing him.

"Oi!" Harry yelled and turned, red faced to launch himself at Ron. They landed on the bed and Harry started tickling, his fingers finding all Ron's vulnerable spots. Ron shrieked and fought back, wrestling with his partner and incidentally slipping them both out of their clothes until they were puddled together on the bed, breathless with laughter and stroking bare flesh lightly as they calmed down.

"Is there a reason that I'm starkers?" Harry asked after a moment, lifting his head to look Ron a bit myopically in the eye. Ron shrugged casually. Harry snorted at him and wriggled over on top of Ron, who sighed involuntarily and spread his thighs a little, letting Harry settle in between them.

"No particular one," Ron put a hand on Harry's right arse cheek and rubbed it lightly. Harry arched into the touch - they hadn't had time to 'do the full show' since the end of year exams started and leaned down to kiss Ron demandingly. He pulled back only when they ran out of air and Ron sent his fingers in deeper.

"You'd better not be teasing."

Ron was delighted with that growled response, and the dick he could feel nudging his own. He stretched out a hand and Summoned their jar.

0oo0oo0

Diagon Alley was busy, and Harry stepped away quickly from the wall he'd Disapparated in front of. Ron popped in behind him, both teens dressed entirely in Muggle clothes. Professor McGonagal had given them a book list to study for the extra lessons they'd have next term, and Harry moved quickly towards Flourish and Blotts. They were going to disguise the books magically so they'd have something to read at night. The rucksack he had on his back was magically expanded inside to allow him to carry his clothes and books in one bag. They'd also be able to fit in the food they were planning to buy in Godrics Hollow once they arrived.

Ron reminded Harry they had to visit Gringotts to change their money over to Muggle notes and coins, and pick up the cards that the bank had organised with one of the Muggle banks so they would be provided with funds. His friend was fascinated by the way Muggles managed their money, and the idea that you could pay without actually having the money sitting in your pocket. The fact that Harry had opened a joint Muggle account in both their names was giving Ron a warm glow that had led to a rather enthusiastic display when Harry had told him about it.

Dumbledore was waiting for them in a room at the Leaky Cauldron. Their Headmaster was wearing a set of bright blue motorcycle leathers, with his long beard tucked inside the jacket, and his hair drawn back in a rather startling plait. Harry nearly dropped his package of books on the floor, and Ron grinned beside him in surprise. There was a helmet tucked under Dumbledore's arm with a gold Phoenix embossed on it.

"Good morning boys," the Headmaster smiled, "I have some items here for you before we go."

They returned his greeting as he turned and picked up a rather large bundle of black, handing it to Harry before handing a similar bundle to Ron. There was a set of knee high boots, leather trousers and jacket, leather gloves and a glossy dark helmet in each bundle, and all the items were humming gently from the charms laid upon them.

"A Growth charm," Harry murmured, "They will expand or contract to fit us… and an Impermeable charm, no heat, cold, wet or dry will get in through them, and they'll keep us the right temperature no matter where we are…"

Dumbledore was nodding in encouragement and Ron took up the litany, his hands running lightly over each item. Harry smiled at his partner, happy for him to join in showing off the skills that they'd learned in the last two terms. Even Snape had encouraged them to use their sense of magic to accurately predict the way their more dangerous ingredients would react in a potion.

"There's a Direction spell on the helmets, so we won't get lost, and there's an Unbreakable charm on the whole lot - in case of accidents, sir?" Ron asked and Dumbledore nodded, the smile growing greater. He held out a set of brown saddlebags to Ron, who grinned and muttered 'Expansion spell' to Harry before opening each flap. There was a set of tools and a motorbike manual with both the Muggle specifications of Sirius' bike as well as the magical spells that had been placed upon it.

Dumbledore had given them several texts on the art of riding and maintaining a motorbike at their meeting just after the first batch of Tears of the Phoenix had been brewed, explaining that as they were used to travelling by broom they would have no trouble controlling the bike. Hogwarts students were trained from their first day to put theoretical knowledge to practical use and neither boy was too worried about their ability to start and ride the bike.

"I'll leave you both to get changed," the Headmaster picked up his helmet again and Harry stepped forward, hugging the elder Wizard quickly, a little embarrassed by the impulse but determined to at least acknowledge how important the gift was to him. A thin yet strong hand patted his back lightly and Dumbledore stepped outside without looking back. Harry took a deep breath and toed off his trainers, biting his lip.

"You ok, mate?" Ron's voice was gentle and ungrudging. Harry nodded, shaking out the leather trousers. He took a deep breath and stooped to put them on over his jeans before pausing. A smile crossed his face and he straightened, undoing his jeans and stepping out of them. Ron gaped and then flushed as Harry pulled the leather up his long legs and fastened the button fly. He bent at the waist to pick up his jeans and Ron groaned lustily, his hands cupping Harry's arse tightly for a moment before letting go.

Harry chuckled as he sat down to pull the boots on, doing up the unfamiliar fastenings carefully and stamping his feet to get comfortable. He stowed his clothes in his rucksack and added his parcel of books. Ron was mimicking his movements, and shrugging into the jacket. Harry's mouth went dry in lust, and he dropped his rucksack to take Ron in his arms, sliding his hands under the leather and tucking his fingers into the back of Ron's waistband.

They pressed together, kissing urgently, hips grinding together, the Growth charm failing to grow in a vital area, leading to the risk of permanent damage. Harry groaned into Ron's mouth, sucking greedily on the tongue in his mouth, moving urgently as desire swept away all other thoughts.

0oo0oo0

Ron fingered the second piece of hard shiny Muggle card in his pocket. It had his face and name on there, as well as his birthday and address in Godrics Hollow. How Dumbledore had managed to come up with all the bits of paper that the Muggle agency had needed was beyond Ron, though their copies were now safely stored away in a special pouch that Harry had picked up in Diagon Alley years ago. It shrunk whenever someone that wasn't its owner tried to touch it, thus keeping it safe from thieves. Harry had added a locator spell to it so he couldn't lose it, and now it held their Muggle identity papers, the cheques for the house, the legal papers that Harry had been sent from Madam Legales, all the house plans and the Muggle permits they'd needed for building as well as some emergency Muggle and Wizard money.

They had passed the test easily enough - their knowledge of Muggle road laws getting them perfect scores on the theoretical test, and the instructors complimenting them on their riding capabilities as well. The balance and skill that came with riding a broom had stood the test when riding the motorbike for the first time. Dumbledore had congratulated them and very quietly nipped off to Apparate where no one would notice. Harry had driven them through Muggle London to an old building that seemed to have just about everything that Muggles had ever made under one roof, and all for sale.

They were standing in the store that had tents and camping gear on display, and Harry was looking over a primus stove - something that used 'spirits' to cook with. Ron was hoping that 'spirits' meant something different in Muggle, because he didn't fancy trying to burn ghosts. Harry nodded finally to the sales assistant and wandered over to Ron's side.

"You've got the strangest look on your face," Harry murmured and Ron grinned. He'd have to be careful how he phrased this so as not to break their cover altogether - Muggles didn't like being called Muggles, they thought it was an insult. He suspected he was dealing with another Muggle/Wizard conflict, and if he got this right he'd make Harry happy. That was one of Ron's major goals in life at the moment.

"Just wondering what sort of spirits get used for cooking in your world," he replied, and was delighted with the smile he got in response. Harry's little finger linked with his for a moment and he followed when Harry jerked his head at the side wall.

"We need sleeping bags and mattresses," was all Harry said, and Ron nodded, realising that the wall was divided into sections that held rolled up squashy things and flat thin pads also rolled into tubes. The thin pads turned out to be the mattresses that Harry was talking about and they spent some time talking in low voices about the kind of sleeping bags they wanted - summer weight versus winter weight and size and colour until they finally had two they were happy with - making sure that their choices would zip together to form one big bag for the two of them.

Despite his mother's offer, Ron and Harry had declined her offer of cooking utensils, and Ron spent about half an hour browsing through that section, making sure they had enough to cover all eventualities and having fun with some of the stranger things that Muggles came up with. Harry simply trailed along behind his partner carrying whatever Ron picked out. The assistant took that pile of gear away as well and Ron followed Harry to the back of the shop to look at tents.

"We'll expand it of course," Ron murmured and Harry nodded, "But I think we should look for something easy to put up. You remember the World Cup."

That earned him an honest laugh and a fond look from his friend. Harry nodded and started flipping through the information sheets the shop put out for people to look at with Ron leaning over his shoulder. They were both accustomed to researching various topics by now, and Ron quietly started listing the features that he liked best, until Harry pulled out a pencil from inside his jacket and handed it over so Ron could keep track of which tent had what.

By now, the assistant clearly thought she was dealing with connoisseurs, because she stopped trying to sell them what she thought they needed and merely stood to one side to hear what they wanted. Eventually they chose a medium sized dome shaped tent with pockets in the internal walls for storage and a heavy ground sheet. The assistant went to get it and Harry handed over their plastic money card while Ron watched how it worked closely, memorising the code that Harry entered to make it work and realising that it was the date of Ron's birthday.

Their purchases were packed into several bags and they headed out to their bike once again. Harry had managed to find a spot to park that was very unobtrusive, letting them lower their purchases into the saddlebags, which swallowed the bulky items without any difficulty at all. A glance at Harry's watch showed that it was still early - they were the first customers in the store and the car park was only one third full - and Ron climbed up behind Harry, wrapping his arms comfortably around his partners' waist while Harry took them out of the city and towards Godrics Hollow.

0oo0oo0

Harry stretched as he took off the helmet and ruffled up his hair. Despite the cushioning spell on the seat and rack, he was stiff from sitting on the bike for so long. Ron dropped his helmet on the handlebars and started unscrewing the cap on the petrol tank.

"I'll fill up, you pay," his friend suggested and Harry nodded, opening his jacket and grinning when Ron's eyes glazed over a little. They were both still drooling over each other, and the smell of the leather combined with the smell of Ron was driving Harry a little batty.

"You want a cold drink?" Harry asked. Despite the spell that kept the leathers cool in the hot summer sunshine, he was feeling a little sticky. Ron nodded and Harry wandered into the shop, smiling at the consol operator and heading for the fridge along the back wall. He selected a couple of bottles of ginger beer, and then snagged some snacks as well. They were planning on having a late dinner in Godrics Hollow after they'd set up the tent. They'd use the afternoon to look around the village and lay in some supplies - not too many as they had limited space and didn't want to waste food. Harry had learned a spell that would allow them to keep food cool in a special container - he planned to buy a Muggle box that they used to keep food cool on picnics and enchant it.

One of the customers, a slender young woman in a low cut, short summer dress shadowed Harry to the counter. He paid for everything; including the petrol when Ron waved he'd finished filling the tank, and headed for the door with his good-looking shadow trailing along behind him. He stepped out into the heat and grinned at Ron, who was frowning as he pushed the bike away from the bowser. He didn't have to be a genius to know that Ron was frowning at the girl that Harry could feel staring at him from only a short distance away.

"Hey lover," was Ron's unexpected greeting, "Did you get everything?"

"I did," Harry grinned, hearing the sniff of disdain and watching her swish over to her red sports car, "And later I'll get you."

"Already got me," Ron put the bike on the kickstand and joined Harry on a picnic table. The cold bottles were sweating, and Harry took an appreciative swallow of the tart drink, opening a bag of crisps and passing over a roll of polos. Ron had gotten very fond of this Muggle sweet during the Easter holidays, and his remembrance of that little fact got him a peck on the cheek.

"Are you going to be all sentimental in public all hols?" Harry asked lightly, leaning into Ron's shoulder comfortably.

"Is that a problem?" Ron asked and Harry shook his head. He wasn't going to resist his friend - if Ron wanted to claim him in public then Ron would get his way. The smile he got from his partner was more than reward enough and Harry finished his drink.

Ron drove them the rest of the way to Godrics Hollow and Harry directed Ron through the village with taps and squeezes. The field where the house was going had become overgrown since the sheep had stopped grazing in there. There was a large birch tree in the corner of the field and Ron ran the bike over the rather uneven front yard to park under it. Harry slid off the bike, and stowed his helmet next to the tree before helping Ron pull all their new gear out of the saddlebags, including the rucksacks.

"So, what's first?" Ron asked and Harry grinned, pointing at the tent and groundsheet. Once they got their tent up they could use magic on the rest of the gear without the Muggles seeing. Harry had no intention of spending the summer totally magic less. He'd just make sure that they were careful not to get caught.

"Tent first and then we can work on all the rest of it."

Setting up the tent was hysterical. They sat down to read the instructions carefully, then tried to follow them. They got into difficulties quickly and ended up laughing so hard they had to lie down. Ron grabbed the instructions from Harry and started making changes to them, including several steps like 'swear at inventors', or 'shake heads at Muggles', which had Harry laughing even harder.

They managed eventually, and Ron crawled inside to carefully enlarge it while Harry sorted out their gear and then passed it inside one item at a time. He listened as his partner put a cushioning spell on the mattress pads before laying them out, and zipping up the sleeping bags whilst making lewd comments. Their rucksacks and the primus were tucked away carefully near the front.

When Harry crawled into the tent it had doubled in size. Ron had disguised this by copying the fly and moving the copy halfway down the tent, hiding their sleeping area behind it. They were also able to stand up if they wanted too, not that Harry planned for them to be spending any time in here vertically.

"So, time for dinner?" Ron asked, and Harry grinned. He launched himself at his best friend, knocking him to the ground and unbuttoning his leather trousers quickly. He dipped long fingers inside and fished around in Ron's briefs, coming up with his prize.

"I've got mine," Harry growled and bent his head to his self-appointed task, smiling when Ron moaned and pushed his hips up off the ground in response.

0oo0oo0

Godrics Hollow boasted a small Tesco, and it didn't take them long to find everything they needed there, including a washing up tin and shaving mirror, which they'd forgotten this morning. Ron was still playing up to Harry, getting his friend to guide him through the Muggle world, teasing with comments that sounded innocent, but weren't given their history together. Harry seemed to be blooming before Ron's eyes, gaining colour in his cheeks and confidence in his movements.

There was also a bookstore in the village and Ron persuaded Harry to come in with him, eventually adding to their collection of Muggle mysteries despite the fact that they'd gotten lost in Flourish and Blotts only this morning and were nearly late to meet their Headmaster. The fact that they were weighed down with twice the number of books they'd gone in to buy may also have had something to do with it. At this rate the first things moved into the new house would be their book collection as the cases in their dorm were already overflowing.

/Not that I'll have time to read/ Ron's fingers told Harry's shoulder. Harry grinned foolishly, and the girl behind the counter blushed, flirting a little with him. That seemed to worry his partner, and Ron steered them out to the motorbike, getting on the back and letting Harry take them home.

"What's wrong?" Ron asked when they had packed the food away, sorted out the bike and were lying on the groundsheet in front of the tent. Harry sighed and rolled to lie on his stomach, propping his chin on one hand and reaching out to tug on the hem of Ron's sleeve with the other. They'd changed into shorts and Ron was hoping to go back to school with a tan.

"It's…" Harry sighed and Ron put up his hand lazily, pushing his fingers up Harry's sleeve to rub against the swell of muscle there. His man was dead sexy, and Ron made a mental note to tell him that every day.

"When those girls flirt with me," Harry shook his head, and green eyes begged Ron to help him out. Ron laughed and shook his head. He knew where this was going, and it stemmed from Harry's image of himself as unlovable.

"Harry you idiot. You're drop dead gorgeous, of course girls are going to flirt with you," he knotted his fingers in Harry's sleeve when his partner flinched and shook his head, "Yes you are, you're sexy and when you're in those leathers… well, I think you know how I feel about you in those."

"But I'm yours," Harry whispered, leaning down to hide in Ron's shoulder, "I don't want them."

"Look, mate, it's a normal thing for you to notice them drooling at you. It's normal for you to be flattered, too. I know you won't cheat and I'm not going to go mad every time a girl looks at my man. It just makes me pity them because I know who you're coming home in… I mean with!"

Harry was laughing now, glasses askew, and Ron concealed a grin. Mission accomplished for today, then, and tomorrow he'd tell his partner again, and keep telling him how loveable he was every day until Harry believed him, for the rest of their lives and beyond.

0oo0oo0

They were up early the next morning and sluiced each other down in warm water from their wands. They also took the time to add Impermeable and Unbreakable charms to the tent, as well as a few security charms that would allow them to lock the tent when they were away. Summoning their bond, they then laid a very powerful I-am-not-here charm on the tent, so that Wizards and Muggles alike would only be able to find it if they already knew it was there. This would allow them to leave their wands behind when the builders arrived, as both teens were wearing shorts and t-shirts in deference to the hot weather. They had forgotten to get pillows or cushions in London; Harry wanted to wait until they had taken a trip to a Muggle city not far from Godrics Hollow in two days time. His partner was burning with curiosity, but Harry wanted it to be a surprise.

"Harrrreeeeee," Ron whined in a really unattractive tone, and Harry burst into laughter, collapsing to lie on the long grass as he tried to breathe between gales of laughter. From Ron's expression this had been his friends goal and when Harry had caught his breath, wiped his face and gotten up again he gave Ron a passionate kiss.

"Don't do that," Harry stifled a giggle, "We've got to get all those soil samples and the map ready for Neville so Hedwig can take them before the builders arrive. She's not supposed to spend summer with us, it's too risky."

"Ok," Ron pretended to sulk but moved away to start collecting the samples their friend had demanded while Harry drew up a map of the garden as it was now, marking in the existing trees. He and Ron had agreed that the trees should stay where they were, and Harry had an additional request for a hedge out the front that would block the view from the lane into the garden. It would have to bracket the drive, which ran to one side of the garden, and the stile that sat in the middle of the wall. They had changed some of the windows in the front rooms to French doors to let them into the garden, and the conservatory on the back of the house provided another access point. After careful discussion the conservatory ran only along half of the house and was accessed through the laundry, with a door leading outside too. The kitchen door would open onto an open courtyard that they would surround with potted plants.

All of this was detailed in a letter to Neville, including a list of plants they thought their garden should have. Some of these were potion making plants that Harry knew wouldn't look too strange to Muggles. Ron was asking for a good spot to start a vegetable garden - apparently the only type of gardening he enjoyed - and Harry boxed their samples and letters up as Hedwig arrived, landing in the birch tree and hooting softly at him.

"Hello," he held his arm up and she fluttered down to land on it, extending her leg for the harness strap that would let her carry the small box safely. He stroked her feathers gently, and smiled when she seemed to lean into the touch.

"Is it too heavy?" he asked and she bounced lightly on his arm before settling in a way that told him she could carry the parcel easily. He smiled and looked over at Ron rather sadly. Sometimes, Hedwig had been the only thing that seemed to care whether he lived or died. It would seem odd not to see her this summer, unless there was an emergency.

"I need you to take this to Neville at Hogwarts, please, and then you're to go to the Burrow. You'll have to stay there this summer," Harry told her firmly, and bit his lip when she gave him a very hurt look, "Don't, Hedwig. You're too beautiful to stay here. The Muggles will notice you right away, and maybe the word will get back to Wizards. That would mean danger for you and Ron, and I couldn't bear it if you were hurt. Please don't be mad."

Hedwig shuffled up onto his shoulder and extended a wing to touch his cheek. She'd never done that before and Harry felt his eyes sting with tears. He took a deep breath and Ron glanced over at the lane.

"Harry, I think the builder is coming," his friends voice was gentle. Harry could hear the rumble of the lorries that would be carrying their building supplies and twitched Hedwig back to his forearm before launching her into the sky with a whispered farewell. Ron came up behind him and held him close for a moment before going to meet the builder - a man by the name of Owen Walters - to give Harry a moment to compose himself. He watched the last place he'd seen Hedwig for a few moments then got up and followed Ron and the builder around to the entrance of the quarry.

0oo0oo0

"Now, are you going to tell me?" Ron breathed the words into Harry's ear, his hands moving pleasurably over the body beneath him. They still slept with their hands tangled together, bodies spooned or wrapped around each other, which allowed their mornings to start on a very pleasant note.

"Bath," Harry moaned and Ron kissed his panting partner softly. They'd been at this for a little while now, and Harry was at the puddle stage Ron liked to bring him to before entering his partner.

"Had one last night," Ron reminded him, and Harry started laughing. Ron loved the sound of it, and started tickling, abandoning his massage to encourage further hilarity. Harry shrieked and writhed, his own fingers fighting Ron off, the two of them squirming and struggling together until a fortuitous move on Ron's part had Harry moaning as his body was breached. Ron echoed the moan and pushed his hips slowly forward as Harry moved to give him better access. The warm body beneath him was welcoming, and the green eyes watching his face were shining with an emotion that seemed too big to be contained in one soul.

"The… city of… Bath… oh Ron…" Harry broke off and Ron smiled, moving in and out, striking Harry's prostate with each thrust and reducing them both to speechless and stunned in short order. They lay in a gasping pile, fingers expressing what voices couldn't; sweat cooling on their skin.

Ron stirred first, kissing Harry tenderly then stroking messy hair out of green eyes. Harry smiled at him rather sleepily, and Ron chuckled. His partner would have him hot and bothered in no time at all if he didn't stop with that particular look.

"Come on, we need to clean up and get going if we're going on a trip. And I want to get cushions or something while we're there - I'm getting a crick in my neck," Ron mock grumbled and Harry sighed, stirring reluctantly and waving a languid hand. Their bond hummed and the cleansing spells they preferred to use took care of the mess.

"Your turn to cook," Harry reminded him and Ron grinned, pecking Harry on the temple before sliding off their bed and reaching for some clothes. While he started brewing the morning pot of tea Harry made their bed and generally tidied the tent. Ron was not an untidy person as a rule, but neither was he as tidy as Harry had been trained to be. They had managed to strike a comfortable compromise, living in a kind of organised clutter.

Breakfast over, Ron climbed up behind Harry and settled in for the ride to Bath. Harry was an excellent driver, and Ron had wondered what it would be like to fly on the same broomstick as his friend. They'd had to leave their brooms at the Burrow, so he'd have to keep that little bout of curiosity under control until they got back to school.

Bath turned out to be a bustling Muggle city with buildings that reminded Ron of the Wizard style of architecture. Harry piloted them through the very busy traffic to a small lane that ended in several walled yards. The bike was parked to one side, and they got off, sliding wands, helmets and jackets into the saddlebags before activating the protection wards. Thanks to Professor Flitwick's tutelage they could defend themselves without wands, and the wands themselves were safe enough in the saddlebags as they were enchanted to shrink unless touched by their owners. Ollivander himself had recommended the spell in one of the books the man had written about wands and Ron had read at Flitwick's suggestion. Ron got a good look at the dark blue shirt that Harry had finally chosen to wear and sighed, shaking his head.

"You're asking for it in that get up, mate."

"Will I get it?" Harry smiled over at him, his eyes roaming appreciatively over Ron, and the redhead grinned as his blood stirred in response.

"You sure will," he promised and followed his partner out of the lane. They climbed uphill, following the narrow lanes until they widened out into a large market place, already bustling with people. Ron's eyes lit up and he grabbed Harry in an enthusiastic bear hug. Harry started laughing, and Ron squeezed him so hard he squeaked for a moment before they let go.

"Muggle markets!" the Pureblood crowed, "Brilliant!"

0oo0oo0

Harry watched his partner as they walked through the main marketplace, heading slowly up the hill. There were bookstores, bookstalls and all sorts of clothing, souvenirs, and oddments all over the place so that Ron was like a child in a sweet shop - not sure which way to run first. The tourists were thronging all over the place as well, and Harry was content to just watch Ron and the crowds around them. He'd heard about Bath in school when they'd studied the Romans and later the Victorians in History. He'd always wanted to go and see the town for himself, and the summer holidays had provided him with an appreciative travel partner and the opportunity to indulge a long held wish.

They found a stall that sold handmade crafts, with various types of embroidered, brocade and patchwork pieces. They found a basket of cushions in the back of the stall and bought five, choosing bright colours and soft textures. It was a moment's work to find a quiet corner and send them off to the tent before turning back into the market place.

Near the baths that Bath was named for there was an old-fashioned sweet shop and Ron disappeared inside for almost half an hour. It gave Harry time to figure out where Sally Lunn's house was. He was planning to go there for tea before heading home. Ron came out with a very large bag of Muggle sweets, laughing at the names of some of them. They found a pub for lunch and spent the afternoon wandering through some of Bath's more famous attractions, learning the Muggle history as they went. Ron nearly got them kicked out of the Costume Museum when he started laughing at the sixteenth century fashions, exclaiming that his grandmother had a dress just like the one in the case - which Harry thought was probably true. Nothing ever truly went out of fashion in the Wizard world. The water in the Pump Room had Ron gagging in disgust and Harry treated them both to an ice cream from the parlour just outside it.

"Hey, Harry, is that Muggle music?" Ron asked him, tilting his head up at the speaker suspended from the lintel of the shop. Harry listened for a moment and then nodded.

"Yep, that's one type," he nodded, and watched Ron's face light up. They ended up traipsing back into the market - no hardship for either of them - and Harry found the shop that was selling Muggle electronics. A few minutes thought later, he and Ron were proud owners of a combination radio/CD player, along with some seriously heavy-duty batteries.

Ron pestered Harry all the way back to the bike and he took advantage of their secluded parking spot to kiss the redhead silent, slipping the box into one of the saddlebags and restoring the wards on it. Ron was panting when they broke for air, and Harry grinned at him. Ron rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"Not that I'm complaining," Ron began and Harry laughed, putting an arm around Ron's waist and steering him back towards the main streets. His partners' curiosity had gotten them into a few scrapes over the years, though it didn't match Hermione's. Truth be told, Harry's curiosity was more than a match for the both of them, though his childhood had conditioned him to concealing it.

"It's a Muggle invention that will let us listen to their version of the radio. I think I saw a music store as well, we'll get a few CD's - and yes I'll explain it all to you when we get home - to listen to as well," Harry promised, and was rewarded when Ron simply leaned into him.

"Lead on," was his friend's response and Harry turned his head to kiss the nearest cheek. Ron wouldn't let him let go when they got to a more crowded part of town, and Harry tried not to notice the way some Muggles stared or frowned at them.

The music shop was noisy and crowded. Harry didn't really have much idea of what he and Ron would like, and so he chose a few compilation CD's, that had a mixture of pop, rock, rap and techno. Ron liked the music they could hear at the moment and they managed to find a copy of the album for him.

"Coldplay?" Ron frowned over the name of the band and Harry pointed out that his friend's favourite Wizarding band was called the Weird Sisters. Ron conceded the point and they made their purchases before heading out into the crowd again.

"Teatime?" Ron asked hopefully, drawing Harry into his side again and rubbing the small of Harry's back. Harry melted into him a little and gave his friend an affectionate smile. Even after all this time that touch made Harry's spine melt.

"Come on, there's a famous place I've heard of. You'll love it," Harry pointed off in the direction they needed to head and Ron followed happily.

0oo0oo0

Ron was fascinated by Muggle music. Harry had managed to come up with a spell that would let them run their radio on the now permanently charged Muggle batteries, and Ron could spend hours listening to it. It went on when they got up and was turned off last thing at night. The sheer variety of moods, styles, accents and rhythms had him laughing and dancing one minute, listening with solemn intensity the next. Harry had found a station that played a great mixture of modern music all day, and Ron was delighted that some of the discs they'd bought contained the songs he'd come to like.

"This should be part of Muggle studies!" Ron said after listening to Eminem, "This is so wicked!"

Harry laughed at him, rolling on his stomach to look Ron in the eye. They were lying on an old blanket they'd bought in the village with the cushions from Bath, reading while the radio played and Owen and his sons worked on setting the foundations of the house. Ron and Harry had found a secluded space on top of the hill behind Potters Field and were watching the slow progress with interest. Once the foundations were set, they expected that the walls would grow rather quickly.

The heat wasn't too bad actually, and they were in the shade of a large oak, and the fresh air and tension free week had put healthy colour into Harry's face. Ron felt a very soppy look take over his face and leaned up to give his friend a kiss.

"You're getting soppy, ya pillock," Harry warned him, and Ron grinned. As endearments went it wasn't Shakespeare, but then they usually weren't given to using terms of endearment for each other.

"Yeah, you make me that way," he agreed, "You're looking much better. Now if I can get some weight on you, mum won't have a heart attack next week at my birthday party."

"You could lie on top of me for a while," Harry laughed, "If you want to put weight on me."

Ron leered and shook his head. Harry didn't take his health, or lack of it, very seriously. It was up to Ron to ensure his partner ate large, healthy meals and rested when he started looking peaky. The strain of being tutored by Snape last term had taken a toll on Harry that Ron had hated to see. The Potions master had given Ron's partner some very strange looks this year, and when Harry had saved the mans life, those looks had increased. It was worrying Ron a little, though he'd done his best not to let Harry know that. If Snape was going off the deep end Harry didn't need to worry about that. They'd had other problems too, with their plan of school unity riding on their ability to publicly uphold it. Malfoy had pressed them both pretty hard to keep their tempers and live up to the school expectations, and as a result Harry's appetite had almost entirely disappeared.

"Maybe later," Ron told his friend and they lay back again.

They waited until the builders left for their dinner and headed back to the tent, stashing their gear inside and munching on the sandwiches they had made after breakfast. The builders came back and Ron persuaded Harry to go for a walk with him. They climbed the stile back into the sheep pasture and walked past the oak tree and down the hill to the trees that clustered at the bottom of the pastures. The sound of running water drew them on and they found a small river flowing along quietly.

"Come on," Harry seemed suddenly energised and Ron watched his friend strip off his trainers and socks and paddle out into the river. Ron grinned and followed, sloshing along behind his partner as Harry pointed to things he found interesting and generally hopped around like a little kid. Ron joined in with a light heart, and they waded for quite some distance, coming eventually to a stone bridge that spanned the river.

They had rounded a bend in the river when the bridge hove into sight, and Ron glanced along the banks, identifying the bridge as the one that he'd driven them over to get into town. If they walked along the road to get back it would be quicker, but Ron wasn't sure that he'd be able to drag his damp and flushed partner away from the river. Harry had found a new toy and Ron was reluctant to take it away from him.

Before Ron could voice his plan, or even call his partner back from where Harry was balancing on a couple of tree roots that were sticking out of the water, there was a movement on the bridge and a loud splash. A car started up and drove away and Ron frowned, looking to see what had been thrown into the river. He spotted the sack floating slowly away from them and shook his head. Muggles and Wizards alike, there was always someone who stuffed up the environment around them. Harry was also looking at the sack and frowning, but there was a tension in his friend's shoulders that said there was more to this than someone dumping their rubbish.

"I think…" Harry trailed off and then chucked his shoes onto the bank. He plunged forward into the water and Ron copied his motions, splashing forward after his partner. Before he could ask what had Harry so upset he realised that the sacks movement was not entirely due to the touch of the water on its sides. There was something living inside it, and as the sack started to sink whatever was inside was slowly drowning.

"Accio sack!" Ron snapped, feeling their bond surge as he drew on it, and the sack zoomed into his outstretched hands. Harry whirled, his eyes wide with relief, the panic in them slowly fading away. Ron was glad that there seemed to have been no witnesses to his sudden use of magic.

"I f-forgot!" his partner stammered as Ron headed for dry land, the contents of the sack squirming in his arms. They stumbled onto the bank, sitting down beside their shoes while Ron carefully undid the knot on the sack. A black pup with huge feet and a skinny body tumbled into his lap, whimpering and shivering despite the heat.

"Oh God," Ron breathed, and cuddled the soaked lump to his chest, staring up at Harry in rage, "What the hell! How could anyone…"

Ron trailed off when the pup started to cry in his arms, and started petting the wet fur gently. When it was finally quiet he looked up again to find Harry and his shoes gone. Ron's trainers had been placed neatly beside him. Muttering under his breath Ron shoved his feet into his trainers and got up, preparing to walk back to the tent. The bank was steep and Ron was puffing when he got to the top, and concentrating on his feet to avoid slipping while his hands were full.

A familiar noise had him looking up and Harry pulled up, Ron's helmet on one arm, a couple of towels on the seat. Together they wrapped the pup in the dry cloth and Ron donned his helmet while Harry held the pup. Ron clambered on the bike in front of his friend and they rode slowly back to Potters Field.

0oo0oo0


	10. Summer Hols again 2

They named the pup Lucky. Despite its rough start in life, the pup had a happy inquisitive nature. They learned to put their shoes away, though Harry accidentally donated a pair of socks as a chew toy to the pup when it got into their dirty laundry while he and Ron were otherwise occupied. They knotted the socks into an interesting bundle that the pup would retrieve if they threw it.

Harry would carry him - it was a dog - along when they hiked through the area, and Lucky rode in a saddlebag when they went to the beach. Ron would talk to it at night when he thought Harry wasn't paying him enough attention, and the pup learned to get out from underfoot when Ron gave a yell and grabbed Harry to dance to one of the songs on the radio. Harry was learning to dance Wizard-style - a sort of jazzy two-step that took energy and some concentration. He didn't mind - he'd found another thing that he loved to do with his partner, and the dance let him express some of his feelings at the time.

Harry was in a bit of a quandary. He had two birthday presents for Ron, one to give him in front of the family, and one that he would give his partner privately when they returned to the house. They were planning to Apparate to the Burrow the night before Ron's birthday and then come back the next night. They were going to put the bike in the tent so as not to arouse any suspicions from the Muggles, and Harry would carry their bag while Ron carried Lucky.

The problem with the second present - the private one - was that Harry wasn't sure it was something Ron wanted. Harry was vacillating about even mentioning it to his friend, but he'd never been a coward before. In the end Harry had simply left it all to Fate. Ron would either ask him about his birthday gift or not. Harry knew Ron had seen both parcels, though he would have been unable to peek at them ahead of time because Harry had put a strong spell on them that would stop anyone from tampering with the gifts.

He didn't have much time to brood, though, as Ron and Lucky would invariably find him and drag him along for a walk or ride or some other activity that demanded Harry's concentration. It was hard to worry that you were about to destroy the most important relationship in your life when you were swimming in a river and trying to fend off your friend who was apparently trying to drown you, or climbing a hill with a pup yapping at your feet and trying to trip you as it chased the field moths.

Ron's mother welcomed them with smiles and hugs, fussed over them both and the pup, then set them to work in her kitchen. Harry had spent a lot of time practicing his Wizard cooking skills in the last two weeks and there was no great mystery in the dinner preparations. Things were only slightly complicated by Hedwig's insistence that she sit on Harry's shoulder while he worked. He was too happy to see her to insist on proper owl manners.

Ginny and her parents were there for dinner, and Molly told them that there would be a family breakfast tomorrow as it was a work day for her eldest sons and husband. Ron would have his celebration then and Harry felt a little sad that his best friend wouldn't have the day with his whole family. Ron didn't seem bothered by all this though, and Harry resolved not to fuss.

They had pudding in the garden, lounging around on the lawn and talking softly. Ron and Harry told everyone about the house, and Lucky's rescue. Ginny told them about her visit to Luna Lovegood's house for a weekend, and Arthur discussed in a vague sort of way the latest intelligence they had on Voldemort's movements. Molly told them about the new Hogwarts Express, and how Fudge was still fielding a lot of criticism in the wake of the destruction of the first one. Apparently Harry and Ron's joint unity plan had redirected the parent's wrath nicely.

It was almost midnight when Molly stirred and sighed. Ron had been lying with his head in Harry's lap, one hand twined in the one that Harry was resting on his chest. Their bond was humming lightly and he felt a sense of peace that had so far been missing from his life.

"Well, I suppose I'd better get the washing up done," she sighed, and Arthur looked a little guilty. Their marriage had evolved several routines to share the burdens of household chores and one of those demanded that if his wife cooked, he cleaned. Harry smiled at his Aunt and Uncle and waved his twined fingers in the air lightly.

"We've already done it, Aunt Molly," Harry ducked his head and Ron laughed at the astonishment on her face. Harry remembered that she had yet to see a true demonstration of their new abilities, and this kind of simple wandless magic was rapidly becoming old hat to them.

"Yeah, mum, we got it done hours ago," Ron chimed in, and sighed when his parents and sister got up to have a look, Ginny sending them a faintly suspicious look as she went. He rolled off Harry and got up, pulling him to his feet. Harry leaned into his partner, letting strong fingers caress the small of his back while Ron simply held him close. He nuzzled Ron's throat, kissing and licking at the warm skin in a way calculated to stir the blood.

"Don't get me started," Ron breathed in his ear, "I want a good shagging on my birthday."

Harry peeled himself off with a mock pout, which Ron tickled, and they headed slowly into the house. This time tomorrow, Harry would know if his second gift had unified them or destroyed them.

0oo0oo0

Ron stood in the middle of the tent, smiling at Lucky as the pup got settled on their picnic blanket by the tent flap. Harry had indeed given him a good shagging this morning - they were almost late to breakfast and Ron had been worried that they'd breached the privacy spell with their noise. There was a noise outside and Harry came back in from putting the bike back in its usual place. Ron knew that his partner had a second present for him, and he also knew that Harry was worried that he wouldn't like whatever it was. He'd never had a dud present from Harry yet, so Ron wasn't too concerned.

"Right, so where's my other present?" Ron thought it would be best to get straight to the point. Making Harry wait for something he felt ambiguous about was never a good idea. Harry flushed a little and went to get the second envelope of the day. The first had been full of gift vouchers to bookstores - Muggle and Wizard alike. All the Weasley's had been interested in that gift, booklovers that they were, and Ron had hidden them away from the twins - just in case.

"Ron…" Harry was starting to look tense and Ron shook his head. Whatever this was really had his partner's defences screaming. Ron was not unaware that Harry had been panicking about this gift a little, and as curious as that made him he knew that it would be best to give his friend a way out of whatever quandary he thought he was facing.

"Look, Harry," Ron smiled gently, "You don't have to do this. You can tear that up right now and I wouldn't mind."

Harry put his head down to think it over and Ron waited patiently. He knew that his partner would give him whatever was in the envelope sooner or later, but he wanted Harry to be comfortable with it. Which was why it was a surprise when Harry pulled out his wand and destroyed the envelope magically. Ron knew he looked shocked, but he couldn't rearrange his features in time. Harry moved stiffly to stand in front of him and before Ron knew what was going on, his friend was down on one knee.

"Marry me?" Harry blurted and Ron gaped at him. He felt as if all the air in the tent had disappeared and there was a heated ball of _something_ in his chest, whirling and thumping against his ribs. Ron felt Harry take his hand and the contact detonated the feeling in his chest. Suddenly there was enough air and the warmth and sheer joy of the moment enveloped Ron like a blanket.

"Yes," he whispered and pulled Harry up into a full body hug, "Of course. What took you so long?"

Harry was shaking, obviously not in the same warm place that Ron was at the moment. Ron held on tightly, just breathing while Harry's shakes and shivers slowly abated. Eventually his partner was able to put his arms around Ron too, and the hug became mutual. Their skin took on each other's warmth and Ron could feel Harry's breath puffing lightly over his neck.

"What was in the envelope?" Ron asked after a moment and Harry snorted into his shoulder.

"Wedding invitation. Kind of stupid, huh?" the dark head nuzzled in closer, "I knew what I wanted, I just didn't know the right way to ask you."

"I love you Harry," Ron didn't say the actual words often, preferring to use the 'stuck with me' promise that he and Harry had developed a year ago and repeated frequently. He felt Harry's body jolt in his grasp and then he was clutched even closer.

"I love you Ron," Harry replied. Ron decided the rest of this conversation would be better off in a more comfortable place and shuffled them back to their bed. Harry let go long enough for them to lay down fully clothed with Ron on his back, and Harry draped over him, before clutching Ron tightly again and kissing him. Ron stuck his hand under Harry's shirt and rubbed the small of his back while Harry tossed his glasses aside.

"When do you want to get married?" Ron asked idly, and his partner sighed happily. Ron grinned into messy hair and gave his fingers an extra swirl on warm skin.

"I thought… Hermione and I researched this in the library. We have to have been together for a year once past our majority in order to be eligible to marry without parental consent, though I hope your parents would consent for you anyway…"

"You're babbling," Ron broke in, "I know the law, Harry, I looked it up myself. We have to have spent a year together in fidelity in order to qualify for the licence, which we have done. All we have to do is arrange the ceremony and a celebrant from the Ministry. And mum and dad would give their consent, I'm sure of it."

"You're sure?" Harry sounded amazed, and Ron sighed. His friend had never been able to predict the way adults would react to any request or action with any kind of accuracy. He blamed the Dursley's for that. Harry had never had the acceptance or family love that Ron had taken for granted all his life.

"I am," Ron kissed unruly hair and smiled in the darkness, "Now answer the question."

"I thought January the fifth," the voice was hesitant, "Because your family always has a big party on Christmas and New Year, and your mum said something about your grandparents coming this year. We can't do it during school term, and…"

"Sounds perfect," Ron stroked the now relaxed body lying partially on top of him, "Where shall we do this? Here maybe?"

"Could… could we do it at the Burrow? Would your mum mind? I'd… I'd like to do it where your family…"

"Mum would be ecstatic," Ron chuckled when Harry trailed off uncertainly, "She's always on about how she'd love to have her children married in the house where they were born. We could have the ceremony under the big tree in mum and dads garden. There's room to put up some marquees up and we can heat them magically to take some of the strain off the house."

"Could… could your dad be our celebrant? I only want family there," Harry confessed and Ron felt his heart swell. His father would be walking on air when they asked him. As an official at the Ministry - the laws said it didn't matter what you did as long as you held office - his father was definitely eligible to perform the ceremony, and as the small amount of magic involved was cast by the two people being joined, not the celebrant, no one could claim that Arthur had somehow arranged things against his son and partners will.

"He'll do it," Ron confirmed, "Hey, we can ask for furniture for our wedding gifts, and tell them not to bother with Christmas presents. That way we'll get some stuff for the house."

"And your parents won't go broke," Harry agreed, lifting his face up to kiss Ron gently. They shelved all further discussion in order to celebrate their decision.

0oo0oo0

Ron knew that his mother would roast them alive if they didn't tell her their news the moment they got up - in a rather sticky, sated and very sappy condition - the next morning, so he convinced Harry to hang a 'do not disturb' sign on the tent and Apparate back to the Burrow for breakfast.

At first Mrs Weasley was worried something was wrong, but she called her husband down from the bathroom without hearing what they wanted first, and then pinned her son and adopted son with a look that clearly instructed them to come to the point.

"Harry has asked me to marry him," Ron was well trained to respond to _that_ look. He had been going to say more, but his parents were on them both, hugging and kissing and congratulating. Arthur was smiling so broadly Ron thought his father was going to hurt something, and Molly had gone all dewy eyed again.

"When? Where? Oh, we'll have to organise a celebrant!" Molly finally let Ron's partner go, and Harry turned to look at his adopted uncle. Their reaction had been more than he had hoped for, and he wanted to take his part in the breaking of the news, rather than leaving it all up to his friend.

"We were hoping that Uncle Arthur would do that," he half said, half asked, "In the garden here."

"Oh boys!" Arthur breathed and hugged them all again. He cleared his throat when he could let go and nodded gruff acceptance. Ron grinned at his partner and gave them the rest of the details that had been worked out just last night.

"That sounds fine," Arthur glanced at the clock on the wall, "We'll have to get together to discuss it tonight. I'm sorry, boys, but I'm going to be late."

"That's ok, dad," Ron grinned, "Why don't you and mum come to tea tonight? You can see the new house - or what there is of it - and we can work things out then."

"Shall do," Arthur nodded and went upstairs to finish getting ready. Molly was putting together a rather distracted breakfast for them, and Ron went to help. Knowing his mother was happy about his choice of life partner made it easier for him to deal with her mothering.

"See you tonight, Uncle Arthur," Harry smiled from the table as Ron's dad headed for the door. It was considered rude to Apparate or Disapparate in the middle of a crowd. Arthur paused at the door and fixed Harry with a blue-eyed stare.

"I think, given the circumstances, it would be more appropriate for you to call me dad," he wagged a finger at Harry, kissed his wife goodbye and stepped outside. A moment later he was gone, leaving two happy Weasley's and a stunned Potter behind.

Ron's partner was fairly stunned all the way back to the tent. The builders were raising walls today, and the noise of their arrival went unnoticed in the din. Lucky greeted them enthusiastically and they fed the pup before taking it outside on the old leash they'd picked up from the second hand shop. The couple that ran it were properly indignant about Lucky's narrow escape and had promised to keep their 'ear out' for any gossip that related to his former owner.

"We need groceries," Ron took Harry's elbow and started tugging his friend along towards the village, "Harry? Are you in there?"

/can I really call them mum and dad// Harry's fingers were urgent, worried, and Ron smiled. He'd been a bit worried that his friend the orphan would feel uncomfortable with Arthur's instruction. Obviously this wasn't the case.

"You are their son-in-law," he soothed, "Or at least you will be. Why not?"

Harry sighed happily and relapsed into his dazed state. Ron rolled his eyes a little but didn't mind too much. It wasn't every day you gained a family who understood you. He could put up with a little woolly headedness from his partner.

0oo0oo0

"Remember, don't shout."

Ron glared at his sniggering partner, and waited for the Muggle telephone to stop making its purring noise and for a voice to speak up. Harry was standing mostly behind Ron in the booth, wedged very nicely along his back and side with his arms around Ron's waist. Ron was holding the phone so that they could both hear it, though he had won the toss over who would do the talking.

"Hello?" the male voice that answered was young and loud. Ron jumped and Harry sniggered, turning his face into Ron's shoulder to muffle the noise.

"Can I speak to Hermione Granger please?" Ron asked politely, and there was a loud clunk, followed by the voice shouting in the background,

"Aunty Alice! Aunty Alice! There's a boy who wants to speak to Hermione!"

Harry was giggling now, and Ron elbowed him lightly. If he started laughing and Hermione heard him she'd be in a terrible mood and they wanted to come and see her to tell her their news. There was a rattle and Hermione picked up the other end, saying hello in a voice that was exasperated to say the least.

"Hello, Hermy, its Ron," Ron identified himself, and Harry leaned over to say hello too.

"Oh! Ron, Harry, hello," Hermione seemed to cheer up a little, "How are you? How's the house?"

"We're fine, thanks, and the house is great! We've got most of the kitchen walls up, and they're starting the next floor today or tomorrow," Ron enthused, "So we thought we'd like to see you."

"Great, I can be there in a flash!" Hermione sounded very eager to get away, and Ron hesitated. They had planned to go to London to visit her. In the background the young voice started chanting something about 'Hermione's got a boy friend', and an older sounding girl joined it.

"Uh, we were going to come to you," Ron hesitated, and felt Harry squeeze him around the middle, "But if you need to get away…"

"I'll ask mum," Hermione promised, "Hang on."

"Hang on to what?" Ron glanced back at Harry, who was laughing hard, shaking his head. Ron grinned - the vibration of the laughter against his chest was a pleasant feeling, which was one of the reasons he loved to tickle Harry. The phone rattled again and a new voice said.

"Hello?"

"Mrs Granger?" Ron asked, though he thought it wasn't - the voice sounded like the one that had been chanting in the background.

"Yes, this is she. What are your intentions towards my daughter? Have you slept with her? Why did you call her today?" the voice continued, and Ron scowled. Hermione's mum wouldn't have to ask those questions, because he was fairly sure that Hermione would have told her parents that he was gay, and she was supposedly off speaking to her mum about why they were calling now.

"Very funny," he growled, "Who is this? I recognise the voice from the chanting I heard a minute ago."

There was a loud clunk that had Ron jerking his head away from the earpiece in protest and giggles fading away to silence.

"Sounds like Hermione's relatives are a bit of a pain," Harry sighed, "Maybe we should just let her come here. If she brings a tent then she can stay for a while."

"How will we transport everyone about? I mean it's hard enough with Lucky now that he's getting so big, and Hermione won't have the right gear for the bike, let alone us having the space," Ron frowned, "That's even if her parents are happy to let her go off with two boys they've never met, parents can be funny about things like that when it comes to girls."

"Mmmm," Ron felt his friends shrug and leaned back into him. It was a little stuffy in the phone booth, but his body didn't care about that, happy to be pressed so close to his partner. The now familiar rattle sounded again and Ron stopped paying attention to his body and started listening instead.

"Mum says I can't come," Hermione sounded depressed, "We've got my cousins here, and it's been ages since I saw them."

"Well, can we come to you?" Ron asked, keeping his voice light, "Would your mum mind if you spent a couple of days going out with us around London if you came back home every night? I suppose if we had to we could drag your cousins along one day too."

Harry was nodding his approval behind Ron and went up on tiptoe to add his voice to Ron's until Hermione eventually called her mother over for a four-way conference. Mrs Granger knew that they were Wizards, and gave them permission to 'arrive' in her attic. Ron thanked her profusely, and told Hermione that they'd stop by tomorrow at nine if that weren't too early. Permission was granted and they hung up, collecting the card that slid out of its slot. Harry had told Ron that by purchasing a calling card they wouldn't have to worry about using coins to feed the machine, which was apparently a nuisance.

Lucky would be sent off to the Burrow for a few days, so the pup wouldn't have to spend his time in the tent alone, and they'd hide the motorbike in the tent like they had before, locking it behind them. Hopefully they'd find some time in their quick visit to sit down alone with Hermione and tell her about their wedding plans.

0oo0oo0

Hermione's attic was well organised, if a little dusty. She was sitting on a couple of old trunks, reading a book when they arrived, and Harry had to grin when she threw the book aside and jumped up to hug them both. They patted her happily and then followed her down the ladder to the second floor landing.

"My cousins Hubert and Natalie are staying for a few weeks," Hermione explained in a low voice as they walked down the stairs, "Hubert's a little pest and Natalie's my age but not much better."

"Are we allowed to go out with you today?" Harry asked, speaking in a low voice too, and Hermione nodded, beaming happily. It seemed strange to see her out of school uniform, though her bright blouse and denim skirt looked nice enough. Ron was peering about with interest, poking the family photos on the wall to see if they would move and picking up Hermione's telephone from its table to examine it. Harry had to keep reaching back and tugging him along.

"Yes, mum said that we can go out with just the three of us today, but Natalie and Hubert have to come with us tomorrow," she pushed open a door at the end of the hall and led the way into the kitchen. Mrs Granger was there - evidently she'd taken off work to mind her niece and nephew - making a pot of tea. Ron and Harry had met her before, mostly at Diagon Alley, and they stepped over to say hello and thank her for letting them come to visit.

Harry could hear a television going somewhere in the house, and supposed that the dreaded cousins were in the front room somewhere. He wasn't that keen to meet them just now, and Hermione obviously felt the same way as she kissed her mother on the cheek and led them back out to the front door, closing it behind her quietly and not seeming to breathe until they were at the end of her street.

"Bus?" Ron asked eagerly, pointing to the bus stop and Hermione agreed. Harry grinned at his friend, and leaned in to speak to Hermione conspiratorially. Ron wouldn't mind a bit of teasing, and Hermione could use the laugh.

"He loves Muggle buses."

"Oi!" Ron protested lightly, but didn't bother to deny it. Hermione laughed and Harry rolled his eyes at his friend. Further conversation was prevented by the bus itself and they climbed up to the top deck straight away, lucky to find seats at the very front, which gave them the best view. Harry let Ron and Hermione sit together, leaning back into his own seat and tuning out Ron's excited talk of the new house.

0oo0oo0

They ended up in Greenwich, looking at the shops and park there. They walked through the museum, and Ron was able to contribute the Wizards version of the history of clock making and navigation in a low voice. He made sure to keep Harry on one side of him and Hermione on the other, holding the hands of both until Hermione complained that she felt like she was three again, and being led around by her parents. Harry had gone a little quiet at this and Ron had sent loving ripples over the hand that he still held.

The trio bought ice creams in the park and sprawled out under a tree to enjoy them. The conversation was lazy as Harry and Hermione debated their next port of call, while Ron watched the Muggles around them picnicking and playing games. A couple rolled past with wheeled boots on their feet, and Ron shrieked with laughter, pointing them out and asking what they were doing. Harry had to silence him with a kiss, which made Hermione clear her throat and roll her eyes.

"Sorry, Hermy," Ron grinned unapologetically. He loved his partner fiercely and had accustomed Harry to simply reaching out whenever he wanted. They wouldn't be able to do this in school, and Ron was determined they enjoy the freedom while it lasted.

"Actually, Hermione, we've got something to tell you," Harry glanced at Ron, who nodded encouragingly. His best friend straightened his shoulders and took Ron's hand.

"On the fifth of January, Ron and I are getting married. We'd like you to be there," Harry got it all out in a rush, and Hermione blinked in surprise, running what had been said through her mind a few times to work out exactly what Harry meant. Ron watched closely, aware that Harry was waiting for disaster to strike them down. He still couldn't accept that people liked him for himself and that the Wizarding world wouldn't throw him out for daring to love another man.

"Brilliant!" Hermione shrieked and launched herself at them in a wild hug, "Of course I will!"

Ron groaned as he ended up on the bottom of the pile, and bucked them off, sitting up with grass in his hair. Harry grinned up at him from underneath Hermione and pretended to be enjoying himself a lot more than he was. Hermione swatted him and rolled off, sitting up with a mock glare and a flush to her cheeks. Ron rolled his eyes at his partner, who simply wriggled on the grass to get more comfortable.

"We've got a little present for you, Hermy," Ron fished around in his pocket, "You've already seen it, but we want you to have this."

He pulled out the red bundle of cloth that the bracelet he and Harry had spent a term and a half making had been kept in. Hermione's eyes widened and she shook her head.

"Oh Ron, don't you want to give it to your mother, or Ginny?" she protested and Harry put a hand on her back, rubbing it idly. He didn't say anything, and Ron simply held out the bundle to her until she took it. The bracelet gleamed in the sunlight, and Ron was proud of the way the intricately woven band looked. They had placed quite a few different protection charms on this, and as long is it was worn next to her skin, they would always be able to find their friend.

Ron took it from her and placed it on her arm, feeling Harry lean into their bond to help him seal it around her wrist and activate the charms. The metal gave off a slight warmth and Hermione leaned down to peck Harry on the cheek before repeating the gesture with Ron. There were tears in her eyes, but neither boy embarrassed her with them.

0oo0oo0

They took Ron to the movies the next day, along with Hubert and Natalie. Hermione's cousin spent some time sulking that she couldn't go to the latest romance movie, but Hermione had no intention of trying to control both Ron and Harry while they took the movie off loudly due to boredom. Hubert was sulking that he couldn't go and see the latest horror movie, but Harry knew that Ron and Hermione would spend their time loudly pointing out all the holes in the Muggles perception of demons and the like out of boredom, and refused to get kicked out by irate patrons.

In the end Harry persuaded them all to go to a cartoon called Treasure Planet. There was enough going on for Hubert to be appeased about the 'kids movie' and no one paid any attention to Natalie's ever deepening sulk when it became apparent she was enjoying herself. Harry sat Ron between him and Hermione, and the two who had been raised by Muggles spent the movie dealing with a very captivated Wizard. Ron had seen moving pictures of course, and knew that you could talk to some portraits, but the idea of animating a picture to tell a tale and entertain was new. Wizard children's books had animated pictures above the words, but they still relied on text to tell the tale.

Natalie and Hubert agreed to stop sulking if they could go to the large music store across the street, and Harry stood back while Ron went through the collection almost disc by disc, his tastes wider than that of Natalie, who liked a peculiar mixture of new age and retro music, and his energy greater than Hubert's, who'd had quite a lot of sugar since breakfast. Hermione found a disc she liked, and spent her time watching Ron in astonishment.

"We've got a normal radio at the house," Harry said in a quiet voice after a while, "It's got a CD player too, and it's on day and night."

"Oh," Hermione shook her head as Ron dumped his selection on the counter and grinned at the girl serving him, "He's certainly picked up a wide… range of tastes."

"Tell me about it," Harry chuckled, "And he dances to it all too, the Wiz way of course."

"So that means you dance too?" Hermione's eyes were laughing at him and he ducked his head, nodding in agreement. She giggled and shook her head, watching carefully as Hubert went up to the counter with his selections as well. Harry gave her a dark look - he had improved since the Yule Ball - and grabbed her hand, swinging her around and grasping her waist. He swung his hips and gave a little push to get her moving, dancing in time to the beat of the song playing and ignoring all the rest. After an initially astonished squeak Hermione picked up the steps easily and they swung easily up and down one of the aisles, letting go near the store entrance with a laugh. Harry swept a deep bow to her and Hermione curtsied. Several of the customers clapped and Ron joined them outside grinning at them both.

"If you're _quite_ finished?" there was no censure in his voice and Harry grinned back, reaching out to caress his fingers and take his bag of discs. Hermione was giggling again and ignoring the frankly disbelieving stare from her cousins.

"For now," Harry answered Ron's sarcastic question and his friend snorted at them both, a very fond look on his face. Any further discussion was curtailed by Hubert's demand for some food, and they moved away in search of a café.

0oo0oo0

Owen Walters and his sons had put in a lot of work over the two days that the teens had been away, and the external walls were almost finished. There were gaps in place for the windows, and the plumbers had been in to run their main pipes through the house. The building debris was unsightly, but Harry knew that an afternoon's work would clear it all away magically. He and Ron had chosen thatch for the roof, and planned to encourage roses and ivy to climb over the house to take away the bare look of the walls.

Lucky escaped from his leash to run into the half built house, giving Ron and Harry the perfect excuse to look the place over in the dark, using their wands to provide the light they needed. Though the interior walls weren't up yet, and the floors were only half laid, they managed to get a very good idea of what their new house would look like. They cornered Lucky in one corner of the laundry and walked him back out to their tent, tying him to one of the bikes wheels before slipping into the tent and sealing it with a privacy charm.

"It's going to be so good, Harry, to have our own house," Ron leaned into Harry's slim body, holding him tenderly, "I know I wasn't too keen at first…"

"Shh," Harry whispered in his ear, "I understand. It's a gift I wanted to give us, something that we can share together."

"I could always work off my debt in other ways," Ron pulled back enough to see Harry's instinctive protest that Ron owed nothing stifled and a very calculating look that he responded to with a suggestive leer. Harry burst into laughter, and the redhead ended up holding his partner on his feet as Harry tried, between bouts of laughter, to figure out a conversion rate for sex.

Ron dropped him on their bed in the end, and started stripping his clothes off, getting the green eyed mans undivided attention. Little riffs of laughter still escaped from glistening lips and Ron moved to straddle slender hips, bending at the waist to kiss those lips lightly, tasting them carefully before slipping inside and stroking over teeth and palate in hypnotic rhythm, feeling Harry's tongue rub slowly over his in reply. They kissed until their lungs cried out for air and Ron sat up slowly, trailing his fingers over Harry's cheeks and down his chest to rest on his belly. The cargo pants Ron had chosen for Harry felt a little rough between his thighs, but the white cotton t-shirt was soft to touch.

"Ron," Harry smiled, reaching his hands up to stroke over his friends thighs, dusted liberally with red hairs, though not as liberally as his groin. Ron smiled gently and pushed the shirt up, stroking over Harry's trim waist and flat belly, tugging on the dark line of hair that arrowed down to Harry's groin. Harry arched at the touch and sat up suddenly, using Ron's weight for ballast. He took off his white shirt and tossed it to lie on top of Ron's clothes, wrapping his arms around Ron's waist and taking the redheads mouth in a demanding kiss. Ron cupped Harry's head in his hands, winding his fingers through messy hair and rubbing the strands together. Harry moaned into Ron's mouth and broke the kiss, letting his head hang heavily into Ron's hands.

"You're a slut for a scalp massage," Ron chuckled, "Rub your hair and you're anyone's."

"Just yours," the throaty voice had bits of Ron tingling very nicely, and he rewarded the comment with another deep kiss, leaning forward to lower Harry back to the bag beneath him. When he had Harry breathless and moaning Ron lifted himself up and undid the cargo pants, tugging down the red briefs underneath as well as Harry lifted his hips helpfully.

Ron climbed back over Harry, centring himself over Harry's dick. Ron loved feeling Harry harden against him, and Harry loved having Ron's weight on him. They kissed again, fingers sneaking over warm skin, rubbing and stroking tenderly, each focussed on making his partner feel good. They were soon moaning into each other's skin, mouths and hands busy as they aroused each other further and further. Harry Summoned their jar suddenly, pressing it into Ron's hand and lifting his leg up, opening himself to Ron's touch and gaze.

Ron kissed his way slowly down Harry's arching, restless body, taking his time to tease dusky nipples and finally settling between Harry's legs to suckle at the straining shaft jutting from it's nest of dark curls. Slowly, tenderly, Ron opened Harry with his fingers, all the while urging his partner to sweet completion with his mouth and tongue. When Harry was boneless and spent, Ron shifted into place, pushing himself inside with tender care. Harry moaned and arched into the feeling he loved best, panting lightly as his dick stirred again.

Ron's light thrusts were hitting his partners' prostate, arousing Harry rapidly while Ron himself clung to his self-control with shaking fingers. Once Harry had returned to full hardness Ron changed the depth and speed of the thrusts, driving them both forward to completion with eager strokes.

0oo0oo0

The builders were hard at work on the interior of their house, and their school letters were waiting when they returned to the Burrow for Harry's birthday, necessitating a few changes in their plans. The book and equipment lists weren't difficult, but Professor Dumbledore had requested that they return to Hogwarts a week before the new school year started.

"I guess we're not going to be travelling on the Express then," Harry sighed, looking over at Ron sadly. He would miss the traditional beginning of year trip to the school, and the chance to catch up with his friends about their summer, "Or at least I won't."

"I'm sorry mate," his friends understanding meant more to Harry than the realisation that Dumbledore was being forced to treat him as if he was dangerous. Ginny squealed as she opened her letter, earning a glare from her mother when she almost dropped the teapot. Ginny's voice could be particularly shrill when she was excited, and when you added six older brothers who could and often did perform magical tricks for her amusement, her happy squeal was something that had been heard often in her life.

"I've got the captaincy!" Ginny bounced in her seat, "Angelina was going to recommend me, and I made it! I'm Captain for Gryffindor's Quidditch team!"

Gryffindor had been having a bit of a winning streak the past years, which meant that Ginny would have a lot of pressure on her to maintain their recent record. Ron was grinning hard, which meant that he wasn't disappointed in her accomplishment and Harry added his voice to the congratulations whole-heartedly.

"Are you sure you don't mind?" Ginny asked him baldly and Ron groaned, rolling his eyes and shaking his head, wincing when his mother slapped at him lightly. Harry understood her hesitance, though and smiled happily at her. There was a notion floating around the school that he was the star player for his House - not a notion he had ever subscribed to.

"Of course not," he reassured her, "Angelina told me she was recommending you last term. I'm a Seeker, Ginny, and I need to be free to go after the snitch when it shows itself. Chasers and Keepers make better Captains because they are better able to concentrate on the placement of the team."

"Well if you're sure," her smile was relieved and understanding, and Ron winked at him before speaking up himself, evidently feeling it was time to change the direction of the conversation. Harry hated the spotlight and Ron knew it. Ginny and Molly's kindly scrutiny was making him squirm.

"I notice you don't ask me if _I_ mind," he pretended to huff, and his mother rolled her eyes, slapping lightly at his arm again.

"Ronald Weasley, you've got NEWTs coming up this year. In fact, maybe you should resign from the team this year to concentrate on your studies," she scolded, "You too, Harry."

"Mum," Ron and Harry protested at the same time, and Ron paused, letting Harry speak for him.

"Quidditch is an excellent way to avoid the build up of stress, it gets us to exercise muscles other than our brains and …" Harry petered off, running out of persuasive explanations. Ron sensed this and took over smoothly, finishing the sentence without second thought.

"And it lets us do something that we're good at."

The implication that they weren't good at lessons hung in the air for a moment, but Molly Weasley was kind enough not to point it out, and after she'd glared at her only daughter, neither was Ginny. Ron subsided with a small apologetic grin in Harry's direction and Molly stirred. They were sitting around her kitchen table, waiting for Arthur to come home from work. Lucky was sitting on Ron's lap and Harry tried not to be jealous. The pup would soon grow too big for that, and Harry could be patient.

"Harry, I never asked," she looked over at her adopted son, "What sort of cake do you like? I want to make your birthday cake tonight."

"Uh, I don't know," Harry looked at her, startled. No one had ever worried about what his favourite anything was, other than Ron. He'd never really thought about it. He knew what he liked when it came to more normal meals, but his experience with birthday cakes was very limited.

"He likes chocolate frogs," Ron spoke up helpfully, "And Honeydukes Best."

"Just because you like chocolate," Ginny poked her brother, and Harry sighed, preventing Ron from retaliating as he so obviously wanted to. He shook his head helplessly at Molly who smiled.

"Well, if you think of something let me know, otherwise I'll surprise you," she said comfortably. Harry thanked her quietly, and then hid his face in his hands when Ron opened his big mouth again.

"He likes coffee laced with fire whiskey, mum, maybe you could do that!"

"It's a good thing Harry loves you, Ron," Ginny groaned, as Mrs Weasley fired up into her best 'there will be no underage drinking' speech. Harry grinned across at his flushed partner.

"A very good thing," Harry agreed softly.

0oo0oo0


	11. 7th year, term 1

****

Further warnings: time to deal with the Dursley's… oh and a little note about scrying. I think it's supposed to see the present, not the future, but I don't know for sure, and I'm going with my interpretation of it all, ok?

****

Sympathetic Magic: Part Six - Seventh Year - Term One

Hogwarts looked good in the morning sunlight, and the Gryffindor's tower was completed, the stonework around it cleaned of soot and smoke. It had been a rather depressing sight to see last year, and Harry was relieved to see his first true home back to its old self. Professor Dumbledore was standing on the front steps waiting for them, with Dobby beside him. Harry hastened his steps, Ron matching his stride easily as they floated their trunks and owl cages along behind them, their brooms in their protective bags slung over their backs. Lucky gambolled behind them, destined for Hagrid's hut. The pup would be welcomed by their friend, and Fang wouldn't mind the company - Harry had made sure of this on his birthday, sending Hedwig with a note asking the half-giant if he'd be interested in adopting their pup.

"Good morning, Professor," they called as they got within hailing distance. Dumbledore was looking splendid in his brilliantly coloured robes. Even his hair was gleaming in the sunlight.

"Good morning boys," Dumbledore beamed at them, "Welcome back."

Harry smiled at his Headmaster and then turned to say hello to Dobby, who was hopping from one foot to the other in excitement. The elf took charge of their trunks and brooms immediately, telling them he'd have them unpacked in no time, despite Harry's protests that he needn't bother. It had occurred to both boys that with the tower repaired their ability to share each others bed this year would be limited to school holidays. They'd promised each other to make the time to just be alone - the Room of Requirement would be seeing a lot of them this year - and to increase their finger talk. Hagrid appeared and was introduced to Lucky, the pup carried away in his pocket, Harry watching him go with a little twinge of regret.

"Time for some morning tea, I think," Dumbledore broke into Harry's thoughts, "And I asked you to come to school early for a reason, boys. I have a request to make of you both this year, that will require some effort on your part."

With those intriguing words he turned and led the way into the castle, Harry and Ron trailing along behind him, their curiosity aroused. They walked in silence to the Headmaster's office and sat on the small couch that rested beside the empty fireplace. Dumbledore conjured a tray of tea things, and they spent a few minutes in the mundane ritual of pouring and handing around the plate of scones that were on the tray.

"Now," Dumbledore smiled at them both, "I am sure that you followed the controversy over the Seven Nations Quidditch Cup last year. As you know there was some mention of it being rescheduled for this year, provided certain obstacles could be overcome."

"Mr Bagman has managed it?" Harry asked incredulously. Ludo Bagman was not his idea of a terribly honest, organised person. From what Harry knew of him, his staff did most of the organising and he took the credit for it.

"He did not, unfortunately," the Headmaster's tone was very dry, "However, the Department imposed upon Madam Hooch to assist them. You may not realise it, but Madam Hooch was once a Chaser for the England team."

"She retired injured after a bad smash from a bludger sent her ploughing into the ground," Ron supplied that little piece of information. Harry wasn't surprised his friend knew about it, Ron seemed to store a couple of encyclopaedia's worth of Quidditch information in his brain. Dumbledore nodded at them, smiling again and sipping his tea.

"Correct, Mr Weasley. Madam Hooch was able to organise two pitches for the three teams. The Chuddley Cannons will host New Zealand this year after Christmas, and Australia and Fiji will be hosted by Hogwarts."

"Yes!" Ron bounced on his cushion, jostling Harry, who was just as excited. Two International Quidditch teams at the school! That would be so wicked. They'd be able to see them practice and maybe even see them play each other, not to mention playing other teams.

"We will be housing them in the new Gryffindor tower," Dumbledore continued when he was sure he had their attention, "It is larger than the quarters that your House occupied last year, and a little more modern."

Harry grinned in relief. He and Ron would have their privacy again this year. He made a mental note to send Madam Hooch the largest bunch of flowers he could get his hands on as a thank you and gripped Ron's knee tightly. Ron was also grinning wildly, perfect understanding in his eyes. The Headmaster was pouring himself another cup of tea, and Harry took the chance to mouth 'love you' to his friend.

"Professor, how does having the teams at Hogwarts require effort on our parts?" Ron asked, moving closer to Harry on the couch in reply. Harry was recalled to business when the Headmaster passed around the scones again.

"Madam Hooch has quite a bit of work to do to ensure that the Cup goes off well. In order to give her that time, I have had to release her from her teaching duties. While I don't believe the House Quidditch teams will suffer too greatly in the long run from her absence, the first and second year students have no one to teach them their broom craft. You are two of the best fliers in the school, and Madam Hooch herself has recommended you to me to temporarily take her place. She will be able to resume her duties in the third term this year, but one term is not long enough to teach the students all they need to know."

"Us?" Harry gaped at the Wizard opposite him, feeling Ron's shock as clearly as if it were his own. Madam Hooch wanted them to teach the first and second years to fly? Was she mad? They were taking their NEWTs this year, as well as additional instruction from McGonagal and Dumbledore on their Sympathetic Magic.

"You will be excused from History of Magic to take one year each," Dumbledore nodded, watching them closely, "I would not make this request lightly. Madam Hooch will be here this afternoon to review the curriculum with you both, and return on Wednesday to look over your lesson plans. That will give you five days to plan them, if you start this afternoon."

/Let's do it/ Ron's confidence warmed Harry's fingers /Come on Harry, you know you love to fly, and we _are_ good at it/

/Are you sure? What about all the other work we'll have to do this year// Harry looked him in the eye and couldn't restrain the smile that formed in response to the eager twinkle and supportive love he saw there.

/We'll cope/ Ron shrugged//and just think, no History of Magic//

/You're teaching the second years then/ Harry crossed his eyes at his friend who laughed aloud.

"We'll do it," Harry turned to the Headmaster, who beamed at them happily and nodded once. Harry settled back into the couch, leaning against Ron while Dumbledore explained some of the duties they were required to undertake as flying instructors.

0oo0oo0

The school stadium was being extended to accommodate members of the public, and both teens noticed that there were a number of Aurors around the place, reinforcing the schools security with the teachers assistance and setting up security on the stadium itself. Ron heard Professor Flitwick talking to Professor Sinistra about the Hogwarts Express, which would apparently be ferrying spectators to and from the matches. Anyone who simply Apparated to Hogsmeade would be denied entry at the stadium, as the tickets were charmed to disintegrate if anyone Apparated with them, and the same went for portkeys. The Floo network would also be shut down in Hogsmeade on match days, and there was going to be a very strict patrol to stop people flying in on brooms.

Ron had agreed to take the second years on, knowing that he would be better able to instruct them in the agility skills and long distance flight than Harry, who flew mainly on his considerable talent and instinct and had trouble explaining how some of the moves he pulled on the Quidditch pitch worked. His partner was more than capable of learning the advanced techniques and moves that Madam Hooch drilled all four Quidditch teams on, but once learned he seemed to lose his ability to explain them to anyone else. In addition, the first years hadn't seen Harry fly before, and wouldn't until the first match of the school season. That meant that they wouldn't be attempting to pull moves they'd seen him do last year. By the time the first match of the year was played, Harry would have his students thoroughly under his control, and be able to avoid any accidents.

Part of their duties consisted of sitting down with the four Heads of House to discuss the playing schedule for the school teams. With the second term eliminated entirely from their program, the teams would have to start training in the first week, and playing against each other on the second Saturday of term. Ron was astonished to find that the four Heads of House were rather… competitive over this issue, especially when it came to making sure that their House got whatever advantages were going and denying the other Houses the same advantages.

Ron had been very relieved when that meeting was over, and he and his friend could escape to the library, where they had taken to working on their lesson plans. Professor Snape had followed them there to ensure that they would be fair to all four houses in their lessons, as Harry and Ron were both allowed to deduct points for misbehaviour. Ron had been proud when Harry had informed their Potions master that they were working towards school unity, and that they would treat the students according to their behaviour, not their House.

Harry had needed some reassurance after that little encounter, and Ron dragged him off to their common room, pulling him down onto a couch and kissing him breathless. They were just starting to really get into it when there was a gasp from behind them. Harry stiffened under Ron, and not in a good way. Ron pulled back from his partner reluctantly and turned to meet the wide eyes of Neville Longbottom.

"Hello Neville," Ron sat up slowly and carefully, pulling Harry up too and slinging an arm around his blushing friend, "How was your summer?"

"Er… it was really great, thanks," Neville stammered, moving to sit in a chair opposite them. Ron squeezed Harry in reassurance; his partner was shaking a little with nerves. Even after a year he was still apt to panic when faced with discovery of his and Ron's relationship. Neville was looking at Harry curiously, and Ron saw the exact moment that the light went on for their friend.

"I didn't know that you two were… involved," Neville looked at Ron rather helplessly, and Ron winked at him. It would be best to get it over with in one go, so that Neville, who obviously wasn't too worried about them being gay, could reassure Harry that he was still his friend.

"We've been together for a year. Actually, Neville, the garden we asked you to plan is for our house. We're getting married in January," he said it gently, and Neville grinned.

"Congratulations!" Neville got up to shake their hands, and Ron relaxed a little when colour came flooding back into Harry's face. A ripple of fingers at Harry's waist had his partner smiling and inviting Neville to the wedding.

"That would be brilliant! Thanks, Ron, Harry! I'd love to come!" Neville laughed, "Are you going to be spreading the news, or is this to be kept quiet?"

"We're keeping it quiet," Ron told their friend and Neville nodded, sitting back down. The partners promised not to neck in the common room any more and told Neville about their summer. Neville was back at school early to help finish the experiments that Professor Sprout had started during the holidays with his help. They settled into the chairs to swap stories and gossip for a while, Ron very glad that if someone had to walk in on him and Harry it had been the non-judgemental Neville.

0oo0oo0

Madam Hooch had approved their lesson plans, and given Harry and Ron the keys to the broom cupboard that stored the school brooms and the storage sheds that would house the second year's brooms. School rules didn't allow the second years to keep their brooms in their dorms, after a memorable year when the second years all hopped onto their brooms and went for an unauthorised midnight jaunt over the lake. Albus Dumbledore had almost been expelled over that little stunt, as had several other rather prominent persons.

They were on their way to tea, grinning at each other happily when running footsteps sounded behind them. Professor McGonagal had hitched up her usually long and elegant robes and was running full bat along the library corridor. Harry had a very bad feeling about this, as their Head of House was usually dignity personified.

"Mr Potter!" she exclaimed, "You're to go to the Headmaster's office immediately! You too, Mr Weasley! Run, boys!"

Harry broke into a flat out sprint, Ron beside him, his mind whirling with a thousand and one questions. Without conscious thought he found his wand in his hand, and each corner was scrutinised as they approached it. McGonagal was racing beside them, barely out of breath as she maintained her cracking pace. The gargoyle leapt aside as they approached and Harry ran up the moving stairs, Ron a scant step behind him.

"Professor?" Harry burst into Dumbledore's study, and the Headmaster held up a calming hand as Ron crashed to a stop beside him, red faced and panting hard, Minerva McGonagal a close third. She was breathing quickly, but not unduly distressed by the sudden turn of speed that she'd shown. Harry wondered how she did it.

"There have been several attacks on the Muggle-born's family by the Death Eaters," Dumbledore's voice was clipped and urgent, holding Harry's complete attention, "Harry, they have also targeted the Dursley's. While your schoolmates managed to defend their families by breaking the decree for the Restriction of Underage Wizardry, the Dursley's were not so lucky."

Ron had moved to put an arm around Harry's waist, and the dark haired boy was grateful for the support. He didn't like the Dursley's at all, but he wouldn't wish harm on them, especially from Wizards. Magic was the thing they feared the most, and he could only imagine what had happened.

"Are they dead?" Ron's blunt and cold question drew Harry's dazed mind back to the situation. He shivered at the hate in Ron's voice - he knew it was on his behalf that the redhead hated that particular Muggle family and was sorry that he'd caused such a strong, unwelcome feeling in his friend. He looked over at Dumbledore for the answer and felt something in him lurch when the Headmaster hesitated.

"There was a death," Dumbledore said it gently and Ron grunted in Harry's ear as he took the dark haired boy's weight. Harry felt his partner haul him to a chair and grabbed at the old robes he was wearing, keeping him close. He'd once wished them all dead, in a moment of selfishness and anger, but he hadn't meant it.

"I didn't mean it!" he choked out and Ron wrapped his arms around his shoulders, holding tight and bending to kiss Harry's head. McGonagal crouched in his line of sight and put her hand on his knee.

"Mr Potter, no one would have thought you meant them any harm, no matter what your feelings on the matter were. An angry wish made in the heat of the moment is understandable. No one thinks you wanted this to happen. It is not your fault."

Professor McGonagal never lied - not even to make a hard moment more bearable. Harry covered her hand with his own and nodded against Ron's side, taking a few deep breaths before straightening to look up at his Headmaster once more.

"Who?" he asked quietly, and Dumbledore sighed. He looked very sad and old for a moment, making Harry worry for his health. When he spoke his voice was gentle, warm and soothing. Harry felt himself relax a little in response.

"Your Uncle was killed when the Death Eaters cast several bloodletting curses at once. Your Aunt Petunia is in St Mungo's at the moment, she has been the victim of several nasty curses, and of course she witnessed her husbands… demise. Your cousin returned to the house just as the Death Eaters were leaving. He received only minor injuries. Their house was severely damaged in the attack, and the Muggle fire brigade was able to quench the fires in the upper storey."

"May I… see them? What will happen to Dudley now? When will Aunt Petunia be released from the hospital? Will we be able to protect them from other attacks?" the questions fired from his mouth without any direction from his brain and Ron's arms tightened in response, his partner crooning softly under his breath to calm Harry down. It worked too. Harry felt a sense of peace creep over his racing thoughts.

"You're going to the hospital now," Dumbledore confirmed, "Professor McGonagal will accompany you, as I must see to the rest of our students. As for the rest… that will have to be addressed at a later date."

With that he walked to the fireplace and opened a box. Harry stood up and took Ron's hand, leading him to the fireplace and taking a pinch of the Floo powder. He'd just have to deal with things as they came, and hope that he'd be able to keep the last of his mothers' family safe.

0oo0oo0

Ron steadied Harry onto his feet as the Healer summoned them to Petunia Dursley's room. The hospital emergency department had been controlled chaos as Muggles and Muggle-born Witches and Wizards were brought in from the latest attacks. McGonagal had told them to wait in a corner out of the way while she made inquiries for them. Harry had turned and buried his face in Ron's neck, and the redhead had been horrified to feel several tears wet his skin.

"It's not your fault, mate," Ron had crooned and Harry shook his head, unable to deal with the issue right now. Eventually his partner had calmed down enough to agree to sit side by side on the floor - all the chairs were full. McGonagal had taken a seat nearby after telling them that the Healers would come and get them when they could visit.

Ron had never really spoken to, or even looked at Petunia Dursley. The one time he'd been in her presence without it being an emergency, she had been trying to protect her son from gaining a second tail. When he'd found Harry lying broken on the hall floor, he'd been too afraid for his friend to pay any attention to anyone else. The painfully thin and pale figure in the hospital bed was wrapped heavily in bandages and looked nothing like the sharp faced dark haired woman that Ron vaguely remembered.

Harry moaned in pained recognition and reached out a shaking hand to touch the blanket covering his aunt. Ron wrapped his arm around his friends' waist again and rubbed at the hip his hand was perched on.

"She's not in any pain," Ron reminded him, "The Healers said that they've put her into a deep magical sleep while the worst of all this heals. They said that she should make a full recovery, but it will take a while. That's good news, right?"

"Uncle Vernon won't recover," the dull words had Ron tensing in anger. His partner was determined to blame himself for this whole thing, just as these awful people had taught him to. They'd spent all of Harry's life blaming him for things beyond his control and the lesson had sunk in. He shook the body he was holding lightly, and growled low in his throat, much as his Animagus form would have.

"Unless you personally encouraged and planned this attack then it's not your fault. No one thinks it is, and anyone who says otherwise will answer to me," he informed Harry sharply, "Do you really think that I'd love you the way I do if you were capable of ordering this?"

Harry shook his head, his eyes wide in surprise. He turned into Ron's body, accepting the support Ron was offering gladly. They held each other for a long time, Ron rocking them side-to-side lightly, simply taking slow breaths and rubbing Harry's back. After a while his partner took a deep breath and leaned back to peck him on the lips.

"Come on," Harry let go reluctantly, "I suppose we need to go and deal with Dudley."

"I have a few ground rules before we go anywhere near your dear cousin," Ron straightened, and glanced at the unconscious woman in the bed, "You stay next to me at all times, and if I pull you behind me you stay there. I won't have him touching you, and I especially won't have him too close."

"Ron," the protest was half-hearted, but Ron glared until Harry agreed. He wasn't letting his future husband anywhere near the bully who had nearly killed him, and when he said as much he got a sweet kiss and a short cuddle that had him feeling all warm and agreeable - the exact opposite of how he'd wanted to feel when facing Harry's would be murderer. While he knew all of Harry's 'sweet spots' the same could be said of his partner, who wasn't averse to manipulating them for his own purposes.

Dudley Dursley was sitting up in his bed, hunched over and snarling at a nurse who was trying to get him to lie back. Ron's skin crawled at the sight of the youth, who seemed to have lost a lot of weight very quickly, leaving him with a slightly sagging look to his body. There was a lot of muscle there still, and Harry was a bowstring of tension beside him as his partner came face to face with his cousin for the first time in a year.

Ron noticed tensely that he couldn't see Dudley's right hand, the teen was hunched over it and refusing to let the nurse draw it out for her inspection. As he was still conscious and able to respond coherently the Healers had put him to bed and assigned a nurse to clean him up while they dealt with the more serious injuries that were coming in. The tingle along his skin increased to an outright creep when Dudley spotted Harry. Without even realising what he was doing, Ron pushed Harry behind him and pulled out his wand - a habitual and unnecessary movement - sending a stunning spell to the teen that was launching himself off the bed.

Harry was shouting, as was the nurse who had been pushed to one side, astonished when the spell bounced off Dudley harmlessly. Ron felt their bond snap to life and Harry cast the body-binding spell over his shoulder as Ron put a shield between them and the rampaging teen. The knife that had been concealed in his hand clattered to the floor and Dudley went flying backwards onto the bed. Ron conjured some magical ropes to tie Harry's cousin to the bed as the nurse hit some kind of alarm. Aurors and Healers converged on them from all directions and Ron pulled Harry out of the doorway, sandwiching them into a more defensible corner.

0oo0oo0

"He was under the effects of the Imperio curse," Healer Goodsby sat down next to Harry and took his hand, "He didn't have any choice over his actions. Muggles have no way to fight the curse at all - even some Wizards can't manage it."

"I know," Harry sighed, "It's alright Healer Goodsby, I'm not going to demand he get locked up or anything."

She smiled at him and brushed her fingers over his hand a few times before letting go. Once Harry had woken up last summer, Healer Goodsby had made a point of stopping by his bed a few times a day to say hello and just chat to him. She had treated him like a normal person instead of a victim, as one nurse had, or a hero as one of the orderlies had.

"Are you sure?" she asked seriously, "From what I know you'd have every right."

"He's lost his dad!" Harry gaped at her, "I couldn't possibly…"

She nodded and patted his hand, glancing at the door when Ron burst in, responding to the tone of Harry's words more than anything else. Harry got up and wrapped Ron in his arms. His partner had defended him, knowing almost right away that what Harry had assumed was a symptom of his own uneasy memories was in fact a spell where there should have been none.

"Stuck with me," the words sent a warm glow through Harry, who nodded into the neck he was hiding in and squeezed in reply. They let go after a moment and Harry sighed into Ron's skin before stepping back. His partner smelled good to him, the scent of warm bread and salt said safety to Harry, and could relax him almost as fast as a scalp massage or having Ron rub circles in the skin at the small of his back.

"If you're ready, Harry," Goodsby stood up as well, smiling at them in understanding, "We've fully removed the Imperio curse from your cousin, and checked to ensure that there has been no other attempts to tamper with his will or his memory. It's safe to see him now."

"Ok," Harry nodded, taking a deep breath, "Let's get it over with."

"Remember, you stay beside me," Ron's low whisper was reassuring and Harry made a mental note to shag his partner stupid at the first opportunity. They followed Goodsby down the hall to the room that Dudley had been taken to after he'd tried to attack Harry once more. Professor McGonagal was there already, speaking quietly to a nurse. She moved to Harry's other side immediately, and Harry felt a rush of gratitude for her unspoken support.

"Dudley?" he asked gently, and the boy in the bed turned over to face him. Dudley had lost a lot of weight - in fact he was almost the right weight for his height and build. There were a few sagging folds of skin that spoke of sudden weight loss, and the muscles under his skin looked to be newly conditioned. His eyes were empty though, and his face showed the fear and misery that he was feeling.

"Dudley?" Harry shifted from foot to foot helplessly, wanting to reach out to the other teen but knowing that his cousin would probably see that as a threat. Dudley's face creased a little and Harry sighed.

"Dudley, you're in a Wizards hospital called St Mungo's. You're safe here, no one will hurt you. The Healers tell me that you're going to be fine," Harry gave his cousin a hopeful smile, and received a blink in response.

"Dads dead," Dudley's voice was low and despondent, "Did you know?"

"Yes, they told me at school," Harry nodded, "I'm… very sorry Dudley. Your mother is here too, and she's going to be fine. The Healers have her in a deep sleep at the moment to help her heal."

Ron's fingers were stroking his lightly, not saying anything, just touching to remind him that his friend was there for him. Dudley shifted a little in the bed and Harry tensed for a second before relaxing again. It had been an instinctive response on his part - even lying in a hospital bed, Dudley could rouse some very potent memories of pain and humiliation.

"What's going to happen now?" Dudley asked, drawing his hands close to his chest and biting his lip. Harry looked helplessly at Professor McGonagal who offered him a little smile.

"We've made arrangements for you to stay at Hogwarts this term, until we are certain that it is safe for you to return home. Your school will be sending the work you need to study this term and one of the Professors will tutor you in the afternoons," she said gently. Dudley looked at her in confusion and Harry remembered his manners.

"Dudley, this is my Head of House, Professor McGonagal. She's the best teacher we've got. And this is my partner… Ron Weasley. You've met him before," he stroked Ron's fingers lovingly, and Ron smiled at him before nodding at Dudley in a cool manner. Dudley frowned, trying to figure out where he'd met the redhead before, and obviously failing to. That was ok with Harry, he didn't really want to share Ron with anyone, let alone Dudley Dursley.

"When do I… go to your school?" Dudley looked sadly up at Harry, and Harry looked in turn to his Head of House. She smiled at him gently before answering the question.

"You'll spend the night here Mr Dursley, and come to the school tomorrow. I will collect you in the morning," she told him, "Mr Potter will meet you there."

Harry smiled in relief that he wouldn't have to take care of Dudley tonight, wondering where his cousin was going to sleep and study.

0oo0oo0

Vernon Dursley's funeral was held on the last Saturday of the holidays, and was attended by his son and nephew. Ron stuck close to Harry throughout the ceremony, fascinated by the Muggle ceremony but not wanting to burden his friend with his questions. They had transfigured a set of Muggle clothes from dark robes in order to be appropriately dressed for the funeral.

Several of Petunia's friends were present, gossiping quietly in the background, and Vernon's boss came up to speak solemnly to Dudley. The Muggle teen was silent and withdrawn, as he'd been ever since his arrival in Dumbledore's office. Dumbledore had received him gently, and informed him that he would attend each of Harry's classes, where he would be expected to work on the assignments his teachers had sent him. Dumbledore had then dismissed the trio - naturally Ron was present for this meeting - and Harry had taken his cousin to see Madam Pomfrey for a brief check up before showing him to the small bed sit/bathroom that the castle had arranged opposite Wrestler. The Fat Lady was the portrait over the door and the Gryffindor's had greeted her very cheerfully. She had told Dudley that the password was 'courage' and Ron had barely stifled a snicker of amusement.

Once the church part of the ceremony was finished, and by this time Harry was vibrating like a tuning fork from all the testimonials people had offered about Vernon Dursley's generous nature and friendly demeanour, Ron had steered both his partner and his partners cousin to the car that would take them to the cemetery. Someone had evidently arranged all this for the Dursley's as Petunia was still asleep, and Dudley had been in no fit state to do it.

At the graveside Ron stood with a hand in the small of Harry's back, just resting it there as his partner watched his cousin grieve for the loss of a parent. Harry had kept his promise to Ron and let him protect him from Dudley's touch. Ron knew that eventually he'd have to let up on the overprotective behaviour, but right now all he wanted was to take Harry back to Potters Field and hide in their unfurnished house for a few years.

The priest finished reading from his book and Dudley stepped away from the fat lady with many chins that had been holding his hand to put a flower on the coffin as it was lowered. This woman had been glaring at Harry ever since she spotted him in the church, and Harry had actually shrunk back from the hate in her eyes. Ron glared at her now as she whispered in Dudley's ear, patting his shoulder gingerly.

"Ron," Harry sighed, "Stop that."

Ron started, realising his fingers were kneading angry thoughts into Harry's back. He snatched his hand away in horror, meeting Harry's eyes in apology.

"I'm sorry, mate," he whispered, "I didn't realise that I was…"

Harry offered him a small smile and took a flower from the Muggle who was offering them to the people around the grave. Ron took one at his gesture and followed Harry closely when his partner went to put the flower on the shiny black wood that now housed Vernon Dursley. Harry was pale but dry eyed and Ron was a little worried that his friend hadn't let himself feel whatever emotions were roiling in his eyes.

"Potter," the fat woman strode towards them, and Ron felt Harry stop himself from running away. He moved so he was standing almost in front of Harry, their shoulders overlapping protectively. Professor McGonagal, who had been in the background the whole time, looking very strange to Ron in her dark Muggle skirt and blouse, started making her way through the other mourners to their side.

"Hello Aunt Marge," Harry's voice was flat and emotionless. Ron noticed that he didn't look up at his so-called Aunt.

"I suppose you think that your free ride will continue now?" she snapped, her voice as ugly as her face, and Dudley shifted uneasily from foot to foot behind her. Ron felt anger course through the slender body behind him and wanted to cheer when his partner replied in a tone so cool and adult that the woman in front of him actually stepped back in surprise.

"I never had a free ride, Aunt Marge. I paid for my high school education myself, and if you think that my so-called family made my time with them enjoyable then think again. Being starved and almost beaten to death for the crime of existing is not a punishment that anyone could possibly earn. I'll wait for you by that tree Dudley, when you're ready to return to the school."

"What school?" Aunt Marge sputtered ignoring the accusations of abuse as Ron had somehow known she would, "You can't mean St Brutus's!"

"He does not," Ron could have cheered when McGonagal spoke up coldly, stepping in front of her students as if to protect them, "Harry's Headmaster has agreed to take Dudley in for a term until his mother is well enough to see to the family affairs. I'm sure you were told that the terrorists that attacked the Dursley family were targeting them deliberately. It may not be safe for your nephew to return to his normal school. As for the school you refer to as St Brutus's, to my knowledge it does not exist."

Ron tugged Harry away then, walking him over to the tree he had indicated and slinging his arm defiantly around his waist, glaring at any Muggle that looked at them strangely. This time tomorrow they would be in the Great Hall for the Sorting feast, surrounded by their friends and looking forward to their first day as teachers. Despite the attack Ron knew that Harry was still enthusiastic about the coming term, perhaps even more than he would normally have been as the green eyed boy reached for the normalcy of school to counteract the last few upsetting days.

0oo0oo0

Beth greeted them with a happy shout, running forward to fling her arms around Harry's waist. She'd grown in the holidays, and her white hair had been cut into a layered style that made her look as if she had a silken pelt on her head. Harry hugged her back and smiled when she craned her neck to look at him. He still felt so tired, and Ron was hovering close, trying to give him comfort without smothering.

The Great Hall was bustling with students as they sorted out their seating arrangements at their House tables, moving around the Hall to greet their friends from other Houses as well. The school had been lucky: none of their Muggle-born students had lost their parents or any other family member in the recent attacks. Professor Dumbledore had to work hard to get Fudge to pardon them all for the multiple breaches of the Decree for Restriction of Underage Wizardry.

All of this flashed through Harry's mind as he glanced back at the boy sitting stiffly in a new robe that Harry had sent Hedwig to Diagon Alley for. Dudley was alone at the Gryffindor table, staring at all the teens and children around him in astonishment. Harry hadn't slept too well last night worrying that his cousin would become a target for some of the more aggressive students. Most Wizards had no real contact with Muggles and the Slytherin House would especially enjoy making Dudley's time at Hogwarts even more miserable than normal. Being stuck in a magical place without magic must have been frightening to his cousin.

Ron had taken Harry aside this morning and put a hand over his heart, promising solemnly that he wouldn't do anything to make Dudley's stay here unpleasant or frightening, for Harry's sake. That had taken a weight off Harry's shoulders, as he'd been wondering if he could even ask his friend not to hurt Dudley without insulting him.

"Who's that?" Beth asked, following Harry's line of sight and Harry sighed. Dumbledore was going to explain some of the circumstances surrounding his cousin to the students, but Harry just knew that most of them would be asking him questions of their own about the whole deal.

"My cousin, Dudley," Harry rubbed her back, "Did you have a good summer?"

"Brilliant! We went to the Isle of Wight and camped out for three whole weeks!" Beth bounced in excitement, keeping a firm grip on Harry as she did, "Have you ever been camping?"

"Ron and I camped out for most of the summer," Harry grinned at her enthusiasm, "It was pretty wicked."

The bell that McGonagal kept on hand to get the students to settle quickly rang once and Harry let go of Beth, urging her to sit with her classmates while he and Ron headed back to sit with Dudley. Hermione and Neville were already there and Dean and Seamus were sitting opposite the Muggle, examining him with narrow eyes. With a sinking heart Harry realised that they had figured out who the stranger was and Gryffindor's outraged loyalty was up in arms.

"I'll talk to them," Ron whispered in Harry's ear and pushed him into Hermione's arms. She made him sit next to her, leaving a spot empty next to Dudley for Ron. Harry's sharp eyes spotted her Head Girl badge and he hugged her in congratulations.

"Well done Hermy," he whispered in her ear. She smiled at him and left her arm around his shoulders. Harry was aware that Dudley was watching him with curious eyes, and did his best not to frown at him. Ron was crouched behind Seamus and Dean, speaking quickly and quietly. The doors to the Great Hall opened and Ron scurried around to his seat as Professor Snape led in the new first years.

"Sorted, mate," Dean whispered across the table, with Seamus nodding his agreement. Harry slumped a little in relief. Neville wouldn't tease Dudley - he'd had too much experience on the wrong side of bullies to turn into one himself, and Hermione had already said hello to his cousin quite politely.

They watched the first years get themselves sorted, and then Snape took the Hat and stool away while Professor Dumbledore stood up. He surveyed them all for a long silent moment, his face unusually solemn.

"Welcome to another year at Hogwarts. I have a few start of year notices for you. Firstly, I am sure that you have noticed that Gryffindor has a guest this term. The young man is here as my guest, and yes, as the more perceptive of you have noticed, he is a Muggle. As such he is unable to defend himself magically, though he is a boxing champion in his own right. I leave it to those of you who know what Boxing is to enlighten your Housemates at a later date. I must emphasise to you all that our guest is to be treated with utmost courtesy at all times," the Headmaster looked them all over, and seemed satisfied that he had made his point. He smiled at them and the twinkle in his eyes ignited.

"On a happy note, I am pleased to welcome back Professor Lupin as our Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher," Dumbledore beamed at the former werewolf, who beamed back. Harry glanced up at the full moon shining from the ceiling, as did many of the students who remembered why Lupin had been forced to leave the school. Ron started a round of applause, which soon turned into cheers and yells from most of the students there. Harry was grinning his head off at the Marauder, who solemnly winked back at him. Snape looked disgusted at the whole thing, but Harry didn't care. He'd managed to help his fathers' friend and that went a long way to making him feel better.

"And finally," Dumbledore spoke over the last few claps, "I am sad to inform you that Madam Hooch is unable to join us until term three. Madam Hooch has been seconded to the Department of Magical Games and Sport in order to oversee the final details of the Seven Nations Cup. I realise that many of you have followed the story in the Daily Prophet, and I urge you all to read the Prophet thoroughly tomorrow morning."

There were whispered speculations all over the Hall and Harry looked down at his empty plate, trying not to smile. He caught sight of Ron, who was staring fixedly at the teachers' table in an effort to control his own expression. Professor McGonagal stood then, and Dumbledore gave her a little bow, sitting down and looking at her politely.

"The new Gryffindor tower was completed during the holidays, but members of my House will please note that they are to return to last years quarters. In addition the Fat Lady has been moved to the corridor wall opposite Wrestler. Please do not spend the entire night engaging her in conversation."

The Gryffindor table grinned at each other and shuffled a little on the benches. Dumbledore stood up and clapped his hands, uttering his usual 'let the feast begin'. The tables filled with food and Harry noticed that Dudley had startled badly, paling and almost falling off his bench. When he made no move to help himself, Ron grabbed his plate, put a bit of everything on it and put the plate back in front of him with a growled instruction to eat.

"Do I have to dish up for you too?" Ron asked his partner and Harry blinked at him, then grinned a little hesitantly. He shook his head and reached for the mashed potatoes.

0oo0oo0

Hermione and Ron introduced the first years to Wrestler, while Dudley looked on. The Muggle had already been given permission to enter the Gryffindor common room, as Dumbledore felt it would be best to force some interaction with others on the bully. It would also ease Harry's burden, something that Ron was wholeheartedly in favour of. Harry was inside already, ushering the first years to their welcome speech with Ginny. Although he didn't have a Prefect badge, Harry had fallen into the habit of doing the Prefects duties with Ron. No one in Gryffindor challenged his right to do so, mainly because Harry wasn't lording over them. He did most of the unglamorous tasks and didn't boast about it.

Once the last student was inside, Hermione followed them, leaving Ron and Dudley alone in the corridor. The Fat Lady was chatting to Neville, and Ron glanced at them before gesturing for Dudley to walk with him

"I'm only going to say this once, Mr Dursley," Ron growled, "You damn near killed my partner last year, so we won't ever be friends. But Harry doesn't need the aggravation right now, so I propose a truce. You behave like a gentleman at all times, and I'll do the same. The minute I see you making a move towards him that I don't like, and boxer or not, you'll be on your arse so fast you won't know what hit you. Do we understand each other?"

"Yes," Dudley's voice was low and Ron nodded once, turning and heading back towards the common room. His step faltered when the Muggle kept walking straight ahead, but Ron decided not to follow the teen. He was in his majority by Wizard standards, and there wasn't much trouble that he could get into at this time of night.

Hermione was sitting in their room with Harry. Dobby had given them the same room as last year, so it was almost like home to Ron. He shut and sealed the door firmly before throwing himself into Harry's lap, getting an elbow in the side and a squirm for his efforts. He didn't mind, just made himself comfortable. The way Harry's hands crept around his waist showed that he was more welcome than his partner's actions had indicated.

"Ok, I know that you two know why we're back here," Hermione fixed them with her best impersonation of McGonagal's glare and Ron shuddered. Harry pretended to hide beneath him, suppressed laughter tickling around Ron's waist.

"Hermy! We're your friends, don't glare like that," he protested, "Besides, what would Professor Dumbledore think to see his Head Girl treating the Prefects like that?"

"Spill it Ron," Hermione was unmoved and Ron heaved a big sigh. Harry's giggles were almost audible now, little riffs of laughter that were warming Ron's heart. He couldn't deal sternly with anyone when he had Harry making him feel like this, and gave up all pretence.

"Madam Hooch has organised for Gryffindor tower to become the headquarters of two of the teams for the Seven Nations Quidditch Cup," he grinned at her, "And because she can't do all that and teach, Harry and I will be teaching the first and second years for the next two terms."

Hermione squealed loudly enough to make the room echo and threw herself into Ron's lap. He caught her with a grin and Harry sighed.

"I need to be able to walk again at some point," he complained, pretending to suffer through Hermione's hug. Ron gave her a surreptitious wink and tilted his head at his partner. She seemed to catch on, because she raised her eyebrows at them both and wiggled a little.

"Are you saying that Hermy is too heavy?" he oofed when she thumped him, and Harry laughed. Ron caught Hermione's wondering look and reflected that Harry's laugh was a rare thing indeed if their best friend didn't recognise it. From the twinkle in the green eyes shining lovingly up at him, Harry was in the mood to play a little, and Ron welcomed this sign of returning good spirits.

"No, I'm saying that you are. Hermy is perfect," was the teasing response. Ron retaliated immediately, ticking the body trapped under his, and yelling when Hermione attacked him. The armchair became a flailing mass of arms and legs until they fell to the floor, red faced and out of breath.

0oo0oo0

Harry sat at the House table, butterflies whirling in his stomach. The rest of his House had History of Magic this morning, which meant he and Ron would be teaching their first lessons in little under an hour. He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't notice the approaching trio.

"I assume that we're still practicing our 'do away with House pride' plan?"

Malfoy's greasy voice was like a hot poker on his skin, but Harry managed to look up calmly and say good morning to the blonde Slytherin, keeping all of his frustration inside. Malfoy settled into Ron's place, much to Harry's silent indignation. He stiffened when Goyle made Dudley shift further up, putting the Muggle next to him. Students all around the Hall were watching and Harry reached out to offer Dudley the toast rack as if the teen hadn't tried beating him into submission for most of their life.

If Malfoy was trying to put Harry off his breakfast he didn't succeed. Harry made himself take his normal serving and sighed when the owls with the morning post arrived. He made a mental note to ask Ron for the paper later, and started eating, hearing the first students discover the front page article that covered the Seven Nations Cup.

Ron entered the Hall - he'd been forced to stay behind to deal with a squabble among the third years, and sent Harry on ahead to start breakfast. His eyes narrowed when he saw who Harry was bracketed between, and before he could get over to the spot opposite his partner Justin Finch-Fletchley sat in it, waving his paper at Harry. The green-eyed teen forced a smile for his partner and then turned his attention to Justin's excited commentary.

"What's Quidditch?" Dudley's question was soft, but Malfoy heard it anyway and snorted into his pumpkin juice. Harry felt his cousin tense, and took a deep breath. The last thing he needed was to have Malfoy and Dudley at loggerheads this term. Better to step in now and set some ground rules.

"It's a bit like basketball, played on brooms with three hoops for each team," Harry explained, "There are a few more balls and some different rules, though. I'll get you a book on it. And Draco, if I were you I'd go see Madam Pomfrey about that cough - it doesn't sound healthy."

Malfoy gaped at him, and Justin blinked, a little startled at the tone Harry had used. He became aware that he'd used the same tone that had shut Madam Legales up so well, and bit down on a sigh. He really didn't want to turn into Percy, pompous mannerisms and condescending speech included. Making a mental note to keep a firmer grip on his emotions, Harry glanced at Dudley's empty plate.

"Come on, we've got to get going," Harry told his cousin and stood up, moving away from the table quickly. He heard Dudley get up to follow him and headed out to the large courtyard where Madam Hooch held flying lessons for the first years.

Once there he proceeded to the storage shed and unlocked it, getting his wand out and looking around. Dudley was sitting against the wall, pulling books out of his bag. There was also a shiny black pencil case and Harry stared at it for a moment before shaking his head. He'd become so used to using quills and ink that the Muggle made pens came as a surprise.

Turning his attention back to the shed, Harry flicked his wand and laid out the brooms in a double row, handles pointing in the way they had for his first lesson. He checked that everything was where it was supposed to be and then closed the shed door, locking it and clipping the key inside his robe. He moved to the middle of the field and held up his wand, facing the castle.

"Accio Firebolt," he said firmly, and waited for his broom to find him. He and Ron had both propped their brooms in their open bedroom window this morning, so as not to excite too much attention with their classmates. The Firebolt came racing around the corner and halted in front of him, almost humming with eagerness. Harry smiled and put his hand on the handle, rubbing his fingers over the gold script for a moment. Noise alerted him to his students' arrival and he turned, the broom in his hand to greet them.

"Right, everyone over here to start with," Harry informed them calmly, "I want a word with you all before we start."

He waited until they were standing in a clump in front of him and then nodded briskly. There was an even spread of Houses of course, and right now they were clumped together. With a bit of luck that would stop after a few weeks of spending their free time with each other and sharing meals together.

"Ok, my name is Harry and I'll be teaching you for the first two terms until Madam Hooch is back from the Seven Nations Cup. As I am your teacher I am able to add or subtract House points according to your behaviour. I expect you to do what you are told without argument or backchat, or you'll find that I have my own version of punishment that will make you beg for detentions. First off, who has ridden a broom before?"

Eight hands went up and Harry nodded. Five of them were Slytherins, which made sense. The Slytherin House tended to be the richest of the Purebloods, so it was likely that they would have their own brooms already.

"Fine," Harry gestured for them to put their hands down, "We're going to start with the basic features of all brooms."

He went on to explain about the cushioning spells and flight spells that even the most basic of brooms had, and then talked about how the broom was enchanted to read changes in your body weight to decipher what you wanted it to do.

Ten minutes later his class were standing beside their own brooms, their wand hand over the handle as they said:

"Up!"

0oo0oo0

Ron breathed deeply, taking in a lungful of his favourite smell - the wintergreen scent that said Harry. He was leaning back against the Transfiguration classroom wall, his partner pressed against him in a full body hug. Harry's head was hiding in Ron's shoulder, much the way he had the first time he'd reached out for comfort. Ron had his hands under Harry's robe, rubbing the small of Harry's back while the dark haired teen's fingers massaged the flesh at his waist. They were warm and their breathing was slow and peaceful.

Hermione was sitting in a desk, getting a start on her homework. Ron was glad that they had a friend who didn't mind that they cuddled together, as he hadn't had a chance to touch Harry since they got up this morning. The door that led to Professor McGonagal's study opened and Ron turned his head just enough to see the tall austere Witch enter the room and sweep over to her desk. She eyed them for a moment and then cleared her throat. Ron sighed into dark hair and dropped a kiss on Harry's temple, nuzzling to get him to lift his head.

"Come on mate, time to work," he whispered and Harry took a deep breath, lifting a slightly flushed face and rubbing his cheek against Ron's in an affectionate gesture before sighing and letting go. Ron smiled at him and went to sit in the desk in front of their teacher, tangling their fingers together and smiling up at their Head of House. She nodded once in acknowledgement and waved her wand at the board.

"We're going to start with some simple transfiguration spells that you have already mastered," she said, looking them over, "You must both be comfortable with the casting and the effects casting will have on your Magic. Unlike Charm work, where you are sending your Magic out in a simple command, the Transfiguration spells take more effort. The commands are not as simple, nor do they use a single step."

Ron listened carefully as McGonagal went on to outline the spells she wanted them to cast, one from each year of their schooling, starting out with a simple change from wood to metal and finishing with a tricky conversation of an inert material to a living, complex organism. Harry's fingers were absolutely still in his, a sure sign that his friend was focussed on his teacher and not his partner.

When Professor McGonagal handed over the matchstick they were to start with, Ron placed it on the table and looked over at his friend. Harry was frowning in thought, biting one of his lips and tapping his free fingers on his leg. Ron thought he looked adorable like that, and then focussed his mind on what they were doing.

/wands/ he suggested, and Harry nodded.

/we should probably stand back too, maybe get them to step back as well, this is going to require some power/ he agreed. Ron voiced their request, tugging Harry up and back until he felt that they would be safe enough if something went wrong. Hermione and McGonagal were standing behind the teacher's desk, watching them and the matchstick with equal curiosity.

/speak it aloud, I'll provide the focus/ Harry raised his eyebrows and Ron nodded. Their instincts for who would be the best caster for any particular spell had been honed in Charms, and developed neatly in Potions. They'd switch off for each transformation, depending on who had the strongest ability for each one.

Ron felt the bond warm and become an almost living presence in the room. Without any further communication he raised his wand and cast the first spell, smiling a little when the match turned into a needle. He then turned the needle into a spoon and then a teapot, and Harry took over, converting the teapot to a slightly glowing cauldron. They cast together to partially transform the cauldron's contents into a complex, multi-part, metallic fish.

The bond was humming and Ron felt tremors in Harry's fingers that spoke of rapidly approaching exhaustion. Ron grit his teeth, knowing that they had to either get this next part done quickly or fail entirely. They levelled their wands in perfect unison, converting the cauldron and fish to a crystal sculpture. The bond failed them before they could cast the final spell, draining away like water down a drain, all their energy leaving them in a rush. Ron slipped painfully to his knees, dimly aware that a sweat dripping Harry was bent double beside him. They were both gasping for breath, and pale, their hands shaking and their robes soaking wet.

"_Ron!_" Hermione's voice sounded in his ears and he felt her hands on his shoulders. He was too tired to look up at her, and closed his eyes, intending to gather his energies for a moment. He'd get up in a moment, he just needed to catch his breath…

0oo0oo0

Harry sighed, rolling onto his side. The hospital wings sheets were all too familiar to him, and he took a moment to get his thoughts in order before opening his eyes. Ron was in the next bed, he'd know that slight snore anywhere - he'd had it in his ear for the past year and intended to have Ron snore in his ear for the rest of their lives. He felt… drained, but Madam Pomfrey could give him a potion for that. He also felt… foolish. He and Ron had both failed to set up any safeguards for their bond, draining themselves so badly that they blacked out.

They had been casting as if they were individuals, not a bonded pair. Instead of allowing the Sympathetic Magic to eddy and pool, they had pulled the plug out of the bottom and drained it away. They had used their full strength to transfigure the simpler things, leaving themselves too little energy at the end.

"Harry?" Hermione's voice was tentative and Harry smiled for her, opening his eyes. He pushed up against his pillows until he was half sitting up. Madam Pomfrey was approaching with a tray and morning sunlight was slanting across the ward. They'd been in here all night, then.

"Good morning," Harry sighed, "Sorry, Hermy. Did we give you a scare?"

"Not really," she denied it, though her eyes said otherwise. He put out a hand and she took it with a little shake of her head. Madam Pomfrey handed over his potion and he drank it off in one gulp. Pepper Up potion might make you feel better, but as with all medicine it tasted awful.

"Thanks, Madam Pomfrey," Harry gave her cup back and waited until the steam stopped pouring out of his ears. He made a mental note to send Hedwig for more of the ingredients that made the potion - he had a feeling that he and Ron would need to be able to brew their own this year. Classes were even more intense than they had been in the fifth year, and they were teaching as well as playing for Gryffindor this year.

Ron rolled onto his side, and the school Matron bustled around to his side, pulling him up carefully and supervising as he drank the concoction with a grimace and a gag. Ron looked over at Harry with a doleful expression.

"I think I know what we did wrong," Harry offered and Ron grimaced again.

"Me too," his friend sighed, "Madam Pomfrey, may we go back to school today?"

"You may, though I want you to eat very large meals today. Not that it would be a change for you, Ronald Weasley, you usually eat enough for three people," the Matron was smiling as she said this, and Ron grinned back at her, pushing the blankets back and moving his legs to stand up.

"I'm a growing boy," he said cheekily, and she shook her head, rolling her eyes at him. Wagging a finger in his face she warned him that he'd start growing out instead of up if he wasn't careful, and discharged them both from her care.

It took them ten minutes to get dressed and retrieve their bags, meeting Hermione in the Great Hall. She'd saved them seats, and thankfully they weren't sitting with Malfoy this morning. Dudley was sitting at a corner of Gryffindor's table, mostly ignored by the students near him. Harry sighed and made a mental note to spend some time with his cousin. It wouldn't do to let the teen be isolated, especially after he'd lost his father to Wizards.

They started Tuesdays with double Divination, and Hermione went off to Arithmancy. Dudley trailed along behind them until they reached the ladder and Harry turned to look at his cousin.

"Um, Dudley, this is Divination. It's mainly about horoscopes and stuff. I know that your mum didn't think much of this stuff, but it would really help if you didn't, well, upset Professor Trelawny. She's… unusual for a Witch," he offered a weak smile and Dudley scowled.

"You really think I'm stupid enough to tick off a teacher?" he growled and Harry felt Ron bristle beside him in response. Dudley also noticed and rather surprisingly backed down. Feeling as if this was a huge mistake, Harry climbed the ladder, his cousin close behind him and Ron in the rear.

Professor Trelawny's classroom was as stuffy and over scented as always, and Harry led his group over to a trio of chairs near the window, painfully aware that Professor Trelawny was eyeing Dudley with extreme interest. To his relief she didn't say anything to them, merely turning to the class and adjusting her many shawls for a more dramatic effect.

"This year we will be covering many difficult topics, my dear children, including the art of scrying," her breathy voice wafted over them all, and Harry pulled out his book, opening it to the correct chapter without waiting for her to continue. He'd found that reading the chapter she was talking about was easier than listening to her long-winded descriptions of the process, and this year their book was particularly articulate.

"Mr Potter!" the insistent call was accompanied by a nudge of Dudley's foot on Harry's ankle. Harry looked up at the touch, realising that Trelawny was waiting for him beside the fireplace, a burning candle held out in one hand. Harry got up and walked to the front, reaching out a hand and wrapping his fingers lightly around the candle. Professor Trelawny didn't let go when he tugged and Harry resigned himself to being made into an example. He wondered how he was going to die this year, glancing back at Ron, who was smirking behind his hand. Dudley was also watching with fixed attention, ignoring the work in his lap.

"Now, Mr Potter," she purred, "I want you to concentrate on the flame. Unlike the Orb, candle scrying requires that the scryer focuses their mind very precisely."

Harry took a deep breath and nodded, then pulled the candle from her hand when she seemed to relax. Ignoring her startled blink and Ron's stifled snigger, Harry turned so he was facing the trapdoor, his eyes fixed on the unwavering flame. The heat from the candle was unusually intense and it caressed his face, drawing his attention. Mesmerised, he stared into the flame, the tower and the people around him slipping away almost without his notice.

There was an unusual double glint of copper in the flame in front of him and Harry focussed on it curiously. As he watched, it resolved into Fred and George, the twins pointing their wands and shouting at someone. They were in a street, or alley somewhere, and as he watched a stone wall beside them crumbled, falling down on them, burying them both. Harry shouted in horror and the vision slipped away, returning him to the classroom with a jolt as the candle fell to the floor and extinguished itself.

"Ron!" Harry stumbled forward, ignoring the rest of the students and grabbing for his partner, "The twins! We have to get to the twins!"

Ron was pale and shaking, but Harry ignored it, grabbing his friend by the hand and dragging him to the trap door. They had to get to Dumbledore - the Headmaster would be able to help them.

0oo0oo0


	12. 7th year, term 1 part 2

Ron had never been more terrified in his life. Not even finding Harry broken and bleeding in the Dursley's front hall could compare with the horror of watching his partner become someone else. One minute he had been sniggering at Harry as his poor friend was dragged up the front - Trelawny hated that Harry read the textbooks she assigned rather than listen to her waffling on, and the fact that he'd topped the class in Divinations, despite her coaching of Lavender and Parvati only rubbed salt into the wound. Ron had wondered idly how Harry was destined to die this year - Trelawny's predictions had ceased to scare him at all - and almost laughed out loud when Harry succeed in taking the candle away from her.

His friend had turned to face him, and Ron had to admit that Harry was being quite the showman - the slow deliberate movements and slow even breaths a nice mystical touch. Then Harry had let go of the candle, his face seeming to age, the candle floating in between his hands. Lavender had squealed in shock and Trelawny had stepped back in surprise. His friend's mouth moved soundlessly, but Ron thought he saw the pale lips form the words 'Fred and George'. Then the candle was on the floor and Harry was shouting about the twins. Ron followed his partner, abandoning their books and bags, clambering down the ladder and galloping along towards Dumbledore's office.

He didn't even have the breath to ask what Harry had seen, it was all he could do to keep his feet and keep pace with Harry. The gargoyle came in sight, and even as Ron acknowledged the relief he felt that help was at hand, it moved aside and Dumbledore stepped out, his sharp blue eyes skewering them immediately.

"Professor! Fred and George! They're under attack! The wall! It's going to crush them! We have to get to them now!" Harry panted, his voice high with panic, and Ron felt his skin crawl in horror. If Harry really was having a vision of the present then Ron wanted it acted on straight away. His visions in the past had all come true. Ron was hoping desperately that this one would not.

"This way," Dumbledore whirled and leapt back towards his office, Harry a close second. The Headmaster grabbed a box of Floo powder and threw a handful in, shouting 'Diagon Alley' before stepping into the green flames. Fawkes squawked and disappeared as well, leaving Ron hoping desperately that the Phoenix was also heading to his brothers aid. Harry was already stepping into the fireplace, and Ron took his own handful, panting the words out and whirling through the network.

Dumbledore was already running through the Leaky Cauldron, and Harry was hot on his heels. Ron gulped and followed them, praying under his breath as all three of them headed along the main causeway. Their appearance was causing a stir, and Ron saw several people pull their wands out of their robes, turning to scan the area around them. Aurors started appearing all over the place, and Ron skidded into Harry's back when there was an explosion from somewhere near Gringotts. People screamed and shouted, and Ron saw the twins shop at last.

There was a crack as Death Eaters in their robes and masks Disapparated and started shooting hexes and curses all over the street. Ron felt the bond snap to life as their shield blossomed around them. Fred leapt out into the street, his wand at the ready, George close behind. They were duelling with the nearest Death Eater, protecting their shop and several of the passer-by's who were panicking uselessly.

As Ron watched the twins deflected four spells into a nearby wall. Great big cracks appeared in it and it sagged a little. Neither of his brothers noticed, too busy fighting for the lives of the people around them. The wall shivered and started to give way. Ron pointed his wand and Harry roared:

"Reparo!"

The cracks sealed themselves up and the wall returned to its normal position. Ron squeezed Harry's hand and they started forward, casting shielding spells over the twins and the people closest. As suddenly as the attack started it was over, the Death Eaters that hadn't been injured Apparating away. Several of the Aurors were engaged in fighting a rather nasty fire in Quality Quidditch Supplies, and even as Ron and Harry hurried forward towards the twins, Healers started appearing to take care of the casualties.

Fred and George spotted them straight away and gaped at their brother and his fiancé. Ron was shaking badly as he grabbed them, hugging them tight and then checking them for injuries. Their protests and questions fell on deaf ears as he anxiously went over every inch of them for injuries.

"Ron," Harry's shaking hand on his arm brought him back to himself and he turned to face his partner with frightened eyes.

0oo0oo0

Harry watched as Ron checked the bewildered twins over from head to foot, ignoring their questions and exasperated demands for him to 'stop it ya daft pillock!'. Just as it looked like Fred was about to petrify his younger brother to calm him down, Harry stepped forward and put a hand on the redheads arm.

"Ron," he called gently and Ron _flinched,_ swinging around to stare at him. Harry let go instantly and stepped back, feeling as if he'd been slapped in the face. Ron was scared of him, of what he'd just done. Even though he'd helped save the twins, his partner, his lover was afraid of him and his abilities. Feeling as though someone had just ripped his heart out and stomped on it, Harry backed away from the trio of brothers, his eyes flicking away from them.

"I'm going back to school," Harry stammered and turned, almost running in his haste to get away from them. He saw Dumbledore in the distance and hurried towards him, knowing that he'd better report that he was leaving to his Headmaster before he actually did.

"Harry, are the twins alright?" he asked, concern in his eyes. Harry nodded, trying to control himself long enough to get his mouth to work. His voice wasn't as steady as he would have liked, but it would have to do.

"They're fine. Ron's with them now. I'd… like to go back to school, Professor."

"Take the Floo back to my office and wait for me there," Dumbledore said firmly, "You're not to leave the office, Harry, is that understood?"

"Yes sir," Harry whispered and headed for the nearest fireplace, which happened to be in the back of Flourish and Blotts. The sales assistant was happy to let him use it, and Harry stepped out into the calm of the Headmaster's office only minutes later. The portraits on the wall were awake and watching him closely as he brushed his robes off while standing in the hearth, finally taking them off and bundling them up to avoid tracking soot through Dumbledore's rooms.

"What happened?" a sharp-eyed witch snapped, and Harry took a deep breath. It felt as if there was a massive weight on his chest and his eyes and nose were burning. He couldn't seem to stop shaking, and he wanted nothing more than to crawl into a dark corner and hide for a while.

"The Death Eaters attacked Diagon Alley. I don't know if there were any deaths, but there were a few people hurt," his voice was thin and brittle, sounding most unlike himself. He walked to the door and placed his sooty robe on the floor next to it before walking aimlessly to the middle of the room. Fawkes popped into the room, gliding to his usual perch and Harry smiled at it. He felt tears spill over and run down his cheeks, and the next thing he knew he was sobbing uncontrollably. He staggered towards the nearest corner and huddled into it, burying his face in his arms.

Ron was frightened of him, had flinched away from his touch - their most vital connection was suddenly an unwelcome intrusion. He'd discovered another weird talent that he could perform and one that set him apart from the rest of his friends again. He was nothing more than a freak, an unlovable freak that frightened those around him. He felt Fawkes land on his foot, trilling softly. The Phoenix song failed to comfort him though and he simply curled up in a tighter ball, truly and utterly miserable - even more so than he had been when Cedric Diggory and Sirius had died.

The fireplace whooshed and Harry bit his lips, trying to get control of himself, wishing that he didn't have to, that he could just fall apart and let someone else worry about things for a while. He knew that he had to explain what had happened to Dumbledore and also find Dudley. His cousin already thought he was a freak, so it wouldn't be too hard to deal with him. He'd also have to make some kind of arrangement about the dorm - though he doubted that there was room to move him out of Ron's room. He could always sleep on the floor in Dudley's room. Dobby could get him a couple of blankets and maybe a pillow.

Swallowing desperately on the choked sobs and wiping at his face with both hands, Harry tried to straighten up. He knew that it would be impossible to hide his tears from the Headmaster, but he could at least face the man with some dignity. Fawkes weight left his foot and strong arms wrapped around him. The smell of warm, slightly salty bread wafted over him in a wave and Harry struggled against the clasp, pushing away as hard as he could, a keening noise pouring from his throat uncontrollably. His glasses slipped from his face, falling to the floor and skittering away as his hand struck them.

"_Harry!_" the yell in his ear shocked him into immobility, and he froze. Ron took advantage of his shock to wrap his long arms even more tightly around Harry. The redhead's fingers were stroking him gently and they were swaying slightly where they sat.

"Why did you run away?" Ron asked, sounding genuinely hurt and bewildered. Harry struggled for a moment in the tight grip, outraged, then slumped limply in the other teens grasp.

"You flinched," his voice was as dead as he felt inside, "You were scared of me. You think I'm a freak!"

The last part was shrieked at the top of his lungs but Ron merely tightened his arms and hauled Harry into his lap. Harry huddled there, needing the comfort and hating himself for it. Ron crooned softly and tears spilled over Harry's cheeks again. In a matter of seconds he was sobbing again, shaking uncontrollably.

"Why can't I get control of myself?" he wailed and Ron kissed his ear lightly.

"It's shock, I think," he murmured, "You've worked yourself into a pretty state, haven't you? Just take it easy, it's ok Harry. I've got you."

"You don't want me," Harry protested, "You're sc-scared."

"No I'm not you idiot," Ron replied, his voice sharp, "Harry, when you went into that trance I was frightened - not of you but of what was happening to you. I haven't forgotten last year and the hell that Tom Riddle played with your dreams and visions the year before that. I was frightened that Tom was at you again, that's all. When you grabbed me back there, I was scared that the twins had been hurt, that we'd been too late, that you'd been hurt and I hadn't noticed. Get this through your thick head, Harry. I. Love. You. Nothing will make me stop. We're getting married in January and making ourselves a family of our own. The only way you'll get rid of me is to kill me, Harry. Do you understand?"

Harry gasped for breath, feeling like he'd been deluged with ice water. Kill Ron? He could never! He grabbed the sooty robes his friend still wore and shook his head violently, trying to convey that he would never do that. Ron kissed his ear again and rocked them both slowly, his breathing a little harsh in the aftermath of his tirade. Harry felt a hand worm inside his uniform, rubbing the skin at the small of his back. A little spot of warmth started there and grew slowly, enveloping his whole body, slowing his own frantic heart and breaths, leaching away the tension in his frame until he was slumped into Ron, his hands still clutching the dark robes, his face tucked into Ron's neck.

"I love you," Ron whispered over and over again, in time with his fingers swirls, "I'm not frightened of you, I'm never leaving you."

Those soft words were all Harry could hear as he let the warmth take him away from everything, cocooning him in safe darkness.

0oo0oo0

Ron had been reluctant to leave the twins, even when Harry seemed to weird out on him a little and head back to school alone. Fred and George had reassured him that they were fine, and Dumbledore had found him helping them repair a cracked window. The Headmaster had spoken briefly to the twins and then told Ron that Harry was waiting in the study and would he please join his partner? Ron had been happy to by then, seeing that the Death Eaters were definitely gone and people were starting to get on with their normal day.

He'd found Harry in a corner of the room, crying his heart out, and Fawkes with his partner, trying futilely to reassure him. Harry had fought him off at first, and it had taken Ron some time to figure out what was upsetting his fiancé so badly. His heart broke a little when he realised that Harry was expecting to be thrown away again. He blamed himself for triggering that particular fear, and Dudley's presence for making Harry a little more susceptible to self-doubt than usual. Harry was slow to believe Ron's promises, but calmed down in the end. He went to sleep in Ron's lap, little sobs still marring his breathing.

There was a whoosh, and Ron looked up as Dumbledore stepped out of the fireplace. The white haired Headmaster's eyes widened in dismay when he spotted Ron's lapful of upset Harry. He walked over softly as Fawkes glided to his shoulder and crouched on the floor in front of them.

"He thought I was afraid of him. He thought I was leaving him," Ron blurted, his own face crumpling a little in misery, "I hurt him."

"Part of that would be from the shock, I think," Dumbledore said softly, reaching out a hand to stroke the messy dark head that was hiding on Ron's shoulder, "He's had a lot to deal with over the last week."

Ron nodded, watching the thin hand rub Harry's head almost tenderly. It came to him that Dumbledore cared about his lover almost like a parent would. Dumbledore sighed and called up a blanket, tucking it over them where they sat. He settled on the floor opposite them, Summoning Harry's glasses to him before putting his hands in his lap.

"Perhaps you can tell me what occurred?" Dumbledore asked quietly, and Ron nodded, his arms starting to tire from supporting Harry's dead weight. He wasn't about to complain, though. If this was what Harry needed then this is what he would get.

"We were in Divination. Last year Harry started reading the textbook instead of simply listening to Professor Trelawny, and she likes to make an example of him anyway. We were starting the art of scrying, using candles for our focal point. She called Harry up the front to try it first. He took the candle from her, and then next thing I know it's floating in the air between his outstretched hands. He's in some kind of trance, looking like someone else, and his lips are moving, but there's no sound. Then the candle drops to the floor and he's lunging across the room, shouting about the twins and a wall," Ron sighed, "I was so scared that Tom Riddle was messing with his head again, Professor. His dreams in fifth year were horrifying, and the visions weren't any better."

"I understand," Dumbledore nodded gently, "You came to me, and we went to Diagon Alley where you were successful in saving your brothers."

"I panicked," Ron said bitterly, "I needed to check that they were ok, and then Harry grabbed me to calm me down and I thought that maybe he'd been hurt and I hadn't noticed or something. His hand was shaking you see, and it's so unlike him to be that shaky unless he's sick or hurt in some way. But he thought I was afraid of him and he left."

"Potter was in a right state," one of the portraits confirmed, "Weasley managed to calm him down."

"I see," the Headmaster sighed, "Very well. I think it would be best if Harry gave up Divination, Ron. I realise that it's a NEWT subject for him, but in light of all this…"

"You'll have to talk to Harry about that," Ron shook his head, "It's his decision. I just want him to be happy and safe."

He whispered the last part into Harry's hair and felt his partner stir a little in response. Harry lifted tear blotched cheeks and Ron dropped a kiss on each red eye, crooning softly to comfort his partner.

"Stuck with me, Potter," he whispered, "Forever."

Harry sniffled a little and moved to sit up straight, staying within Ron's arms and warmth. He jumped when he spotted Dumbledore, and flushed in embarrassment. The Headmaster offered them a smile and reached out to pat Harry on a blanket covered hip.

"How do you feel, my boy?" he asked lightly and Harry forced a smile. Ron kissed his temple, and sped his fingers a little.

"Better," Ron knew Harry wouldn't lie to the Headmaster, and for a moment he thought he saw a flash of pain in the blue eyes opposite them. Before anyone could say anything else, the sharp-eyed Witch that had spoken up before interrupted them again.

"Albus, I think that there's something those two have to tell you," she said in a severe tone. Ron fought back the urge to glare at her, and sighed, shifting Harry's weight so his partner was closer. Harry curled into him again, seeking his scent and shelter. Ron rubbed a cheek in his partner's soft hair and looked Dumbledore in the eye.

"We were going to invite you properly, Professor," Ron said pointedly, glancing at the portrait for a moment, "Harry and I are getting married in the January hols."

Dumbledore smiled at them both and to Ron's surprise leaned over and gave them a hug. Harry made a soft noise and released one of his hands from Ron's robe to pat the nearest arm. Ron was very glad that Harry still had one adult in his life that he felt he could turn to despite Sirius' death.

"I would be delighted to come," he told them both, "I await your invitation eagerly. Now, perhaps it would be best if you retired to your dorm for the rest of the morning. You may join the school after dinner, I will send Dobby to you with a tray."

Ron nodded and took Harry's glasses as Dumbledore helped them up.

0oo0oo0

Harry had leaned heavily into Ron as the redhead guided them back to their room. Once inside with the door sealed Ron had put Harry on their bed and pulled off his shoes, pulling off his sooty robe and toeing off his own shoes before joining Harry on the bed. Harry had been unable to suppress a soft noise of need and curled into Ron's arms. He didn't know what to do to heal the breach in their relationship, he just knew he had to be close to his partner.

"I'm sorry," Harry whispered and Ron kissed his temple. The loving contact eased a little of Harry's tension and he was able to unclench the fingers of one hand, smoothing Ron's school jumper with shaking fingers.

"Don't be sorry," Ron told him, "It was a misunderstanding. We're going to argue and misunderstand each other now and then Harry. We did before we started loving each other and we will after we're married. We'll probably still bicker and argue when they ship us off to the old Wizards Home."

"I don't want to argue," Harry bit his lip against the tears he felt threatening to fall once more, "I love you. I don't want to fight."

"It's ok to fight," Ron soothed, "Mum and Dad fight, and look how much they love each other. In fact I think that it's because they love each other that they fight. If they were totally indifferent to each other then they wouldn't have stayed together. I love you, and I care about you, but I don't expect you to agree with everything I say, and I don't think you should expect me to agree with you all the time either. If we can't be honest with each other then we'll be miserable. You know this, Harry, and I know that you remember the disagreements we've had since we became lovers. None of them were the end of the world."

Harry nodded, remembering the minor flashes of irritation and squabbles they'd had since that first summer. They'd even had a row during the building of their house and Ron had gone for a walk to cool off. They solved their disagreements by talking it over, sometimes rationally, sometimes at the top of their lungs. This was a pattern they'd started in their first year of friendship, and Harry couldn't imagine changing it now. Normally he was comforted by the fact that even though Ron was cross with him he still loved him. The argument that they'd had about telling Ron's parents had shown him that.

"So why do I feel so bad now?" Harry had to ask, knowing that the answer was not one he could see. Ron was the calm and rational one this time. Harry lifted his head and looked at the blue eyes that were smiling at him gently. He felt a warm glow somewhere in the middle of his chest and snuggled closer, an action his friend welcomed with a squeeze and a pat.

"Well," Ron's thoughts moved quickly over his face, "You've had a big shock with the whole scrying thing, and we went right from that into a battle with Death Eaters. You managed to save my brothers, and when I panicked you were already on edge. I jumped when you touched me, and that kicked off your own panic."

"It was a misunderstanding?" Harry half asked, half stated and Ron nodded solemnly, stroking his back and still thinking. Harry shifted so he could watch the thoughts and possibilities dance over his friend's face. Ron wasn't often this relaxed and open, preferring to keep his guard up in public. Harry loved watching this happen, it made him feel… honoured that his partner would show him this.

"I think I know how to make you feel better," Ron pecked Harry on the lips and wriggled out from under, sliding off the bed smoothly. Harry knew he was pouting but couldn't help it. Being held by Ron was making him feel a lot better and he didn't want to give it up. Ron returned with a sketchbook that he'd bought during the summer and the box of pencils that Harry had given him. Harry thought Ron was a great artist, though Ron had hotly disputed the point. All of his books and notes had doodles in the margins, as did the books that he read for pleasure. The books he and Harry shared had notes in the margins - they had been known to carry on whole conversations there.

"What are you doing?" Harry sat up obligingly. Ron piled the pillows up on the bed and rested his back against them, drawing Harry to rest between his legs, back to belly. He propped the sketchpad on Harry's knees and fished out a grey and yellow pencil.

"We're going to design our own wedding rings. Usually it's a gold band, like the Muggles wear, but I think we should make our own, like Hermione's bracelet," Ron explained, and Harry felt his heart lighten. The promise inherent in the suggestion reassured him like nothing else could. Bound by the promises and love that went into the design he felt that he could weather any argument with his partner.

"You're brilliant," he smiled and leaned back into Ron's warm embrace, taking the pencil and the love he was being offered.

0oo0oo0

"What do you want?" Dudley scowled at him and Harry sighed. He put the tray he was carrying down on the small table next to Dudley's armchair and stepped back, folding his arms and looking around the room. It was neat enough, and the furniture was good quality, but it wasn't the sort of place you expected to find Dudley 'give it to me now, I want it' Dursley. The computers and stereo and TV that haunted Dudley's room, not to mention the Playstation and all the rest of the 'toys' that his cousin was usually surrounded with were obviously missing.

"You didn't come to tea, and Hermione said she couldn't find you at dinner either," Harry replied reasonably, determined not to let his cousin get to him. He'd had enough turmoil today, between the scrying, the battle and the misunderstanding, and didn't need to get into a knock down drag out argument at this late stage.

"What do you care?" the sulky voice grated on Harry's tired nerves and he glared at the unlovely Muggle slouched in front of him. At times like this it was hard to remember how alone Dudley was while he grieved for his father and waited for his mother to recover. Surrounded by a world he couldn't fit into or control, Dudley was vulnerable and scared.

Harry had no comfort for him. His own life with the Dursley's offered no warm memories to share as a balm to Dudley's grief, there was no common friendship or camaraderie to bolster them. He'd been in Dudley's place so often - grieving for the dead, isolated and powerless - that Harry could understand the tendency to lash out. He'd never had the luxury of course, but he understood the need to express his misery somehow.

"Look, Dudley, I know this is going to be hard for you to understand, but you are family, and I take care of my family. That means I protect them as best I can, and make sure that they're generally ok. You need to eat, so stop your whining and get over here," Harry said it briskly and impersonally. Dudley gaped at him and got up off the bed where he was sulking.

"I almost killed you," he whispered, stepping forward. Harry's insides turned to ice for a moment, and he stepped back. Dudley flinched and Harry watched in a kind of sick fascination as his cousin wrapped his arms around his chest and tried to make himself small.

"That Headmaster of yours same to see us," the voice was low but perfectly understandable, "He was furious. Dad… he was yelling at him, screaming about how you were a freak, and dangerous to us and that he wouldn't have you back. Dumbledore froze him in place… mum was shrieking about how he'd better not hurt us and… he just looked at us like we were bugs. He said that on the whole, Wizards weren't interested in Muggles and it was people like us that were the reason why. He said that you were almost dead and… well he really let mum and dad have it. How you were a helpless baby when you came and deserved love and… he was almost crying I think."

Harry shook his head in denial. Dumbledore was a powerful man, and Harry had relied on this image of his Professor more than once in a tight spot. He didn't want to have that image destroyed - he _needed_ it.

"He called me a would be murderer, and said that my parents weren't fit to raise a child," Dudley choked out, tears dripping from his chin, "He was right, Harry. I'm a rotten person. I could have killed you. I should have been locked up for what I did, but because you were being treated by your own kind there would be no proof for the police. I… I was so angry. I went to school and I worked hard. I tried so hard to be different, and I thought that if it worked, then it would stop bad things from happening. But it didn't and now Dad's dead and Mum's in a coma or something and I'm here where everyone stares at me and hates me."

"No one hates you, Dudley," Harry snapped, "Half the students here are pureblood's who have never seen someone who has no magical ability. They're just curious. They won't hurt you. I won't let them."

"Why would you defend me?" Dudley almost howled and Harry bit his lip. It was a good question. He owed his cousin nothing but hate and revulsion, but at the same time a small part of him was insisting that Harry treat him well. That part was reminding him that there was more to life than petty revenge, and that he had enough to do with killing Voldemort. That part was reminding him that despite the best efforts of the child in front of him - and even though they were the same age, Dudley now seemed much younger to Harry - Ron loved him and was marrying him this January.

"Because I've been where you are for most of my life, and I'm not about to inflict pain on you just because I can," Harry said quietly, "Because I've got an enemy who is so evil he makes you look like a Boy Scout. Because even though you've hated me all your life I can finally say with certainty that I am not unlovable, not unworthy, and not garbage. Because no matter what my life was like in your house, you're now in mine, and I simply will not stand for bullying, not even from myself."

There was a long silence while Dudley stared at him, and Harry sighed. He very much doubted that his cousin would ever understand, but he didn't care. He understood - finally! He understood - and that would have to be enough. He felt tired but there was a sense of peace that he usually associated with Ron hovering over him now. Harry had the urge to find his partner and express that peace as joyously and enthusiastically as he knew how.

"Eat something, Dudley. I'll see you at breakfast tomorrow," Harry turned and headed out of the portrait hole, glancing at Malfoy who was hanging around and being glared at by the Fat Lady and Wrestler.

"Were you looking for someone, Malfoy?" Harry asked politely, folding his hands in his robes. The blonde sneered at him and walked away. Harry shook his head and put his hand on Wrestler's head. He said goodnight to the Fat Lady and the gargoyle, going inside to find his Wheezy.

0oo0oo0

Much to Ron's relief things settled down after that. He and Harry got into the routine of learning and teaching and taking Quidditch practices and tuition from Professor McGonagal fairly easily. Harry disappeared for an afternoon with Professor Dumbledore and Professor Trelawny, and it was agreed that he would continue Divination, but any scrying he did would be in carefully controlled circumstances.

Their students were settling down well, and Ron was thoroughly enjoying the lessons. As Gryffindor wasn't slated to play Slytherin until the third week of term, they both had three clear weeks to impress their student's limits upon them. There would be no danger of his or Harry's class trying out Quidditch moves during lessons, though he thought that Beth Dunn would be the girl to watch when it came to Seeker trials next year. Harry managed to get a look at her flying when Ron kept her behind for a moment and agreed with Ron's assessment. Ron had made his recommendation to their Head of House, and she'd beamed at them both before offering them a piece of shortbread.

The first match of the season had been Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, as refereed by Professor McGonagal. Her name was also on the plaque that held James Potter's Seeker award. Most students didn't equate swift flight and a knowledge of Quidditch that could shame her students, with the slender, austere Transfiguration mistress. They'd had quite a shock. Dudley was absent for the first match of the season as Professor Sinistra had taken him to St Mungo's to visit his still sleeping mother, and Harry had enjoyed a day of not worrying about his cousin at all.

The second match was Slytherin versus Gryffindor, and Professor Sinistra had told Dudley that they would go and visit his mother on Sunday instead, so he could watch the match. She seemed to think that Dudley would find this a treat, and Ron wasn't game to ask how the Muggle felt about it, knowing that a poorly timed remark would only hurt Harry. Ginny had cornered Harry in the change rooms and whispered to him for a good ten minutes, disrupting Ron's usual treat of being able to fiddle Harry's robes and gear into place. Ron made a mental note to pout to his fiancé about this at a later stage and followed his sister out to the box where they all mounted their brooms.

Ron watched his partner zoom confidently to his usual spot and moved to hover in front of his goalposts as he always did. Professor Snape was refereeing this match and the Gryffindor team were warned to be on their best behaviour. They all knew he'd favour his own House, who would be playing as dirty as they could.

The look on Harry's face was blissful, and Ron stifled a snigger. Usually Harry only looked like that during sex. Ron wondered idly if it was possible to have sex on a broomstick and then called his attention back to the game. Ginny had the quaffle and Colin hit a bludger at the Chasers nearest her. When they were forced to duck she zoomed ahead and beat the Slytherin keeper for a goal through the third hoop.

The Slytherin Chasers grabbed the quaffle and tore up the pitch, only to lose the quaffle halfway when Alex Marshfall made a clever tackle. Minutes later the ball was soaring through Slytherins goal again and Ron grinned, the expression growing when he caught sight of Snape's face. Malfoy flew past the redhead, who ignored the sneer and slur from the blonde Seeker, knowing how desperate Malfoy was - desperate to beat Harry once before they graduated.

The crowd roared in disapproval when the Slytherin Beaters hit the third year Gryffindor Chaser instead of the bludger, and she went up to take the penalty. The score was thirty to nothing then, and Ron's breath caught when Harry suddenly exploded into motion, looping around and through the players, coming dangerously close to Slytherins who kicked out at him, his hand stretching out to catch the golden dot just in front of him.

Ron had to take his eyes off his partner as the Slytherins managed to get the quaffle up his end. He kicked the lumpy red ball easily to Ginny, who was off in a flash. The crowd roared again as Malfoy deliberately fouled Harry, who rolled under the other Seeker with a grimace, coming out of the roll directly in the path of a bludger which he only avoided by almost standing his broom on it's tail in the air. The bludger hit Malfoy's foot instead and Harry got out of the way of play, the snitch lost amongst all the movement.

Snape was forced to give another penalty for Malfoy's attempt at blurting, which Alex converted. Forty nothing and Slytherin were in possession of the quaffle. Ron saved that attempt by simply catching it and throwing it casually over his hoops to their third year. She zigzagged up the pitch with the Beaters providing cover for her, eventually making the score fifty nothing.

Harry zoomed forward and down suddenly, heading for the grass at such a speed that Ron's mouth went dry. Malfoy was heading for his partner, a tense look on his face, and Harry dipped down then up, making Malfoy overshoot, heading in totally the wrong direction. Ron's heart was in his mouth as Harry put his broom into a corkscrewing rise, his arm out and fingers outstretched. Moments later he was rising into the air, windblown and triumphant as he held the snitch in his fingers. To Ron's unbiased eyes, he was the sexiest man on the planet.

The crowd yelled in congratulations as Snape blew his whistle to signal the end of the match. A moment later people were booing and yelling as the disappointed Beaters whacked the two bludgers into Harry's body. Ron yelled inarticulately and zoomed forward to try and catch his partner as he fell, his broom lowering slowly to the ground as its rider fell off. Colin and Ginny almost had Harry stopped when Ron reached them. His friend was unconscious and pale. Ron came up from underneath, taking Harry into his arms in front of him and heading quickly towards the hospital windows.

0oo0oo0

Dudley seemed surprised to see Harry at breakfast on Monday, and Harry made a mental note to tell his cousin a little more about Wizarding medicine. The broken bones had been healed on the spot, but the bruises and internal damage had taken a little longer. Ron hadn't been inclined to let him out of bed on Sunday, not that Harry had minded. They'd spent it naked and sweaty, practicing the best kind of medicine.

"How is Aunt Petunia?" Harry asked as he took a place opposite his cousin. Slytherin had withdrawn to its own table in the light of pretty much universal condemnation after their Beaters attack on Harry. Ex-Beaters actually, Snape had no choice but to ban them from play. Harry made a note to go and sit at the Slytherin table for dinner, and helped himself to pumpkin juice and cereal.

"She's still asleep," Dudley sighed, "But the… Healers? The Healers said that they might be able to wake her up next week."

"Good," Harry nodded and turned his attention to Beth who was pressed against his side, "What's up Miss Dunn?"

She giggled a little, but reached up to touch the bruises still visible on his wrists and cheek. Her eyes were shadowed and Harry gave her a cautious one-armed hug. He was still very bruised, and moving slowly this morning, though a few days of Madam Pomfrey's bruise ointment would soon see him right. Ron had a lot of fun anointing Harry, almost too much, they'd nearly been late this morning.

"It's just bruising, the rest is all fixed," Harry reassured her and let go. He started spooning up the cereal quickly, needing to get finished so he could set up for today's lesson. Beth let go of him and turned her attention to the Hufflepuff next to her. Harry didn't know why she'd latched on to him and Ron, but it was a bit like having a little sister. He didn't mind. Dudley finished his toast, and Harry grinned, standing up and swallowing the last of his juice.

"Is that game always like that?" Dudley asked as they walked through the front doors, and Harry glanced at him curiously. Dudley sounded… intrigued.

"Pretty much," Harry nodded, "Although it's always worse when Slytherin play, because they like to play dirty, and their Seeker has never beaten me."

"How many games have you lost?" Dudley hitched his bag up, "And could you teach me to fly a broom?"

"I've never lost a game that I've been in from start to finish," Harry stated the fact quietly, "And I don't know if a broom would respond to your commands."

Seeing the disappointment on Dudley's face made Harry feel a little mean. This was the first thing that his cousin had shown avid interest in, and it should be encouraged at the least. They reached the courtyard that the first years were using and Harry tugged his cousin over to the equipment shed. He pulled a broom out and put it on the grass to one side.

"Do you remember what to do?" he asked, curious to see if his cousin had paid attention to his lessons at all. He knew that Dudley spent a lot of his time in Harry's classes dividing his attention between his assignments and the classes' activities. Nothing had been said about the scrying, although he had a feeling that Dudley and Ron had talked about it, at least briefly.

"Up!" Dudley put his hand out over the broom. It didn't even twitch. His shoulders slumped and Harry sighed.

"Keep trying, Neville's broom didn't listen to him too well either at first," Harry encouraged and turned away, "I've got to set up for my lesson, so I'll be back in a bit."

Just as the first years entered the courtyard, Dudley gave an excited yell as the broom rose slowly and lazily into his hand. Harry nodded to him, but couldn't take the time to teach the basics all over again. Dudley seemed to understand this, as he went to work on his own studies and Harry mentally picked a time to try and teach his cousin to fly.

0oo0oo0

They had managed to work out a way to manage their bond when transfiguring things, though they would never be able to manage wand less work for this subject, and they had to be in contact at all times. Once Professor McGonagal was sure they could manage the casting without hurting themselves, she started teaching them to transfigure objects from two-dimensional images to three-dimensional realities. She had warned them very sternly that they were never to attempt this with pictures of people or complex living organisms.

"This magic is very powerful, and borders on the Dark. There was an extremely powerful Witch in the past that attempted to perform this spell on a picture of her late husband. The results were horrific and the effort killed her as the spell attempted to transfer her life energy to him. You must promise me you will never attempt it," she eyed them sternly and Ron felt his partner's shudder.

"I promise," Ron said it simply, knowing that Harry would never be able to attempt it on his own, and would never attempt a spell that would risk Ron's life. Harry looked over at him, as if reading his mind. He smiled at Ron happily and added his promise. McGonagal started them on trying to transfigure a picture of a needle into an actual needle. Hermione was watching avidly, and by the end of the lesson they had managed to make the picture fade quite a bit.

"If we master this one, we'll be able to translate our rings from paper to reality," Ron said quietly as they headed to tea. He liked the idea that they would be solely responsible for the creation and design of their wedding bands. Harry nodded, looking a little washed out by the afternoon's lesson.

"You've designed…" Hermione trailed off discreetly and Ron nodded as they entered the Great Hall. Susan Bones waylaid them with a note, and Harry laughed when he read it, handing it over to Ron while still chuckling.

'_Are you game to take Hannah and I to the Valentines Ball this year or did we scare you off?'_

"I don't know, Harry," Ron pretended to look worried and anxious, "I'm not too keen on a repeat performance."

"I'll protect you," Hermione said briskly, handing the note back to Harry, who nodded and waved at the two girls, "There, there, Ronny."

Harry started laughing again, colour creeping into his cheeks. Ron was glad to see it. That was why he didn't protest too much when Hermione led him by the wrist to a table and sat him down, with Harry still laughing beside him. She dished up for him and then made as if to cut up his food as well. Harry was nearly crying with laughter by that point, much to Malfoy's surprise.

"Oi," Ron protested and took possession of his knife and fork, "Leave it out, Hermione!"

"It's not that funny, Potter," Malfoy's sneer wasn't pretty, and Harry straightened up, getting his laughter under control. Rom sighed in disappointment - the sound of Harry's laughter was addictive.

"Yes it was," Ron told the Slytherin who had come to sit opposite them. Harry stifled a giggle and started helping himself, offering the bowls he had in his hands to Malfoy politely once he was done. Ron kept an eye on Harry to ensure he was putting enough on his plate and then distracted them all by starting a discussion about their Charms homework.

During pudding, Harry seemed to remember something and twisted around, searching the Great Hall.

"What's wrong?" Ron asked, and Harry relaxed with a sigh.

"I was looking for Dudley, but it looks like Beth and her friends have been taking care of him," the green eyed boy shrugged and went back to his custard tart. Ron saw Malfoy's ears prick up at the mention of the Muggle and bit back a sigh of his own. Slytherin was particularly interested in Dudley Dursley, and as far as Ron was concerned it was a match made in Heaven. The bullies deserved each other.

"Why are you so concerned about the Muggle?" Malfoy probed, "What is he to you?"

"A guest of Gryffindor," Ron replied smartly, "Someone that we're supposed to be taking care of."

"But Potter's not a Prefect like us," Malfoy's sly voice was grating on Ron's nerves, "So why should he care one way or another what the Muggle is doing? It's a bit much, even for a Muggle lover like you, Weasley."

Ron put his spoon down slowly, aware of his friends' tension and the hand that Harry slipped onto his leg with a warning to calm down. He folded his arms and glared at Malfoy with impunity. The blonde git had something coming to him with his thinly veiled digs for information. To be honest, Ron had thought that Malfoy would be more discreet about it all.

"Are you doing this on purpose, or is it your idea of friendly conversation to insult your meal companions?" he asked in a quiet voice, "Every time we sit down to a meal with you, you spend the time making not so subtle digs. I would have thought that as a Prefect you'd know better than to go around trying to pick fights. Harry may not have a badge, but he certainly knows how to behave as a Prefect."

Malfoy flushed an ugly red and stood up, storming away from the table, Crabbe and Goyle following reluctantly, leaving behind their fourth helping of pudding. Harry shook his head, his fingers squeezing a very naughty message into Ron's thigh before letting go and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"You took a big risk, Ron," she muttered out of the corner of her mouth. Ron shrugged, his mouth too full to answer politely. The people at their table had been witnesses to the whole thing, and were whispering to each other quietly. That little confrontation would be all over the school by morning, Ron knew. Maybe it would start shutting up the nasty questions and whispers that the Slytherins always seemed to have ready to hand. If not it might at least inspire the other Houses to start telling the Slytherins where to get off.

0oo0oo0

Ron moaned softly as Harry's body opened to him in delicious heat and tension. If remarks like that at dinner got this kind of reward he'd just have to make them more often. Harry leaned forward and took Ron's lips in a hot, sweet kiss, suckling on his tongue until he arched his back against the pillows supporting it and squirmed for air.

His partner's hips began to move in a slow, seductive sway, long fingers whispering words of love and passion all over his heated, sweaty skin. Harry moaned as he moved, a low, tender sound of pleasure and Ron reached up to add his own fingers to their heated conversation.

He'd definitely have to speak out more often…

0oo0oo0

Harry spent about ten minutes making sure that Dudley knew what movements to perform to guide his broom safely, and then stood back, watching his cousin try to get the broom up into his hand again. Petunia Dursley slept on in her bed at St Mungo's and Professor McGonagal had given Harry permission to teach his cousin to ride a broom, providing he could get one to respond to him.

He and Ron had successfully pulled a match, a mirror and a small plain wooden box out of a picture this morning, and as a result Harry was feeling pretty good about things. The permission to teach Dudley to fly was an added bonus, and Ron had agreed to come along too, with the idea that if the broom got away from Dudley he'd be on hand to help Harry get it back under control. It was disconcerting to have the bond suddenly flare to life when you weren't present, and besides, Ron was still not too keen to let Harry spend time alone with Dudley.

Harry wasn't too keen to spend time alone with Dudley either, so he hadn't kicked up a fuss about it at all. He moved to be closer to Ron while he watched his cousin concentrate - his face screwed up in effort and going a little red. Ron had a book out - on closer inspection it was one of Harry's Defence books - and Harry turned his attention to that, reading over Ron's shoulder.

"I was thinking," Ron murmured softly, and pointed to a particular spell, "We ought to put that on the house before we move in. We could Apparate there this Christmas, seal the spell and then by the time Easter rolls around the spell would have truly settled in, and we can plant the garden without worrying about old Tom."

"Hmm," Harry nodded, leaning closer innocently. The days were getting nippy and they both wore Weasley jumpers under their robes just in case they ever got off the ground today, "We'd have to put the growth spell on the house first. The one in the book that Professor McGonagal asked us to get."

"The add-family one?" Ron frowned, "I don't think that's a good idea, mate. I'd rather be in charge of the additions to the house. We should definitely use the 'elastic walls' one, but…"

"Ok," Harry agreed, "You're right, and we can always put it on later if we change our minds. How about the…"

"Look!" Dudley shouted and Harry watched as the broom rose slowly into the air like it had the first time. Harry grinned at his partner and walked over to stand beside his cousin. He raised a hand and the Firebolt glided to his side, hovering at the perfect height for him to mount.

"Ok, I want you to mount the broom," Harry watched closely, "Grip the handle… no, no, you're not trying to wring someone's neck, straighten your wrists. The vee between your finger and thumb should be on the side of the handle, not on top. That's better. Now remember, you want the broom to go up and hover, so you kick off hard and then hold the handle parallel to the ground, with your weight squarely on the cushioning spell."

Dudley swallowed nervously and kicked off hard, shooting up into the air about six feet. He squealed in surprise but managed to level the broom out. Harry kicked off to match him while Ron shrunk the book he'd been reading to fit it in a pocket before joining them.

"Right, now you want to land, by pushing the broom handle down a little - gently! Keep your weight balanced!" Harry breathed a little easier when his cousin managed that. The sound of feet on the gravel warned him that they were about to have an audience, so he told Dudley to kick off again and once they were hovering he told his cousin to put the broom into motion by leaning forward a little and pulling the broom handle up so that they would gain height. Dudley leaned forward very cautiously and pulled the handle up. His broom rose steadily into the sky, wobbling a little as the Muggle tried to hook his feet into the right position. A glance at the courtyard they'd just left showed Draco Malfoy gaping up at them in pure disbelief.

"Lean forward a little more and pull your left foot up higher," Harry coached and watched as the broom steadied and sped up to a slow cruising speed. He only had one hand on his own broom, the other holding his wand. Harry had learned to fly one handed whilst training to catch the snitch, and this rate of speed was no challenge to him at all. His time teaching the first years to fly had made him a lot more articulate when it came to explaining methodology.

A glance ahead showed that they would clear the castle roof nicely and he decided that they should fly out over the lake. There were usually clear skies there and no one would be able to accuse him or Ron of trying to spy on someone's Quidditch practice.

"I want you to bank to the left until we're heading for the lake," Harry called over the slight breeze that was being caused by their movement. He saw Ron tighten his grip on his own broom, ready to take evasive action if the Muggle totally and utterly messed this up. Dudley managed it though, and soon they were over the water.

Once they'd done a lap of the lake, Harry called to Dudley that he should practice turning and changing height, then pulled back so that he would be behind his cousin and out of the way. Ron joined him, flying so close that it would only be a very short reach to touch him.

"He's not bad for a Muggle," Ron chuckled, "Of course, at this speed its no great challenge."

"I imagine this is fast enough," Harry said reprovingly, "If he stuffs up at this speed we've got time to straighten him out. You want him going full bat and crashing into the lake?"

"It would be entertaining," Ron wore what Harry privately called the 'Fred and George' look; a mixture of mischief and malice that sat oddly on his friend's normally warm and friendly face. Harry shook his head and decided not to encourage him with a response.

Dudley was zigzagging left to right steadily, rising into the air and then lowering towards the lake in regular movements. There was a rush of air and Harry whirled, pointing his wand at the person who'd just arrived and then quickly pointing it away again when he realised that Professor Snape was flying beside him on one of the Slytherin House Quidditch brooms.

"Sorry Professor!" Harry paled, sure that he was about to receive a detention and a few hundred points off Gryffindor. Snape merely sneered at him in a condescending manner and then gestured at Dudley.

"What do you think you're doing?" his voice was very cold, "Imagine, if you would, my surprise when Draco Malfoy comes to tell me that the great Harry Potter is teaching a Muggle to fly!"

"Professor McGonagal gave me permission to try after Dudley expressed an interest in learning. She didn't think we'd ever get him off the ground, but if we did we had permission to teach him the basics," Harry replied evenly, as if his heart wasn't thumping in his chest. Snape growled under his breath, and waved his arm again.

"Over the lake? Do you want him to drown?" he hissed and Harry shook his head, glancing at Ron for support. His partner moved so the Professor could see him as well and answered for Harry, his voice as respectful as possible when shouting over a small, wind tossed distance.

"He can swim, Professor, and we're going so slow that we'd have time to arrest any fall or uncontrolled dive."

"Be that as it may, you will return to solid ground immediately!" Snape didn't bother to sound respectful or polite, and Harry suppressed a sigh. He sped up, bringing his broom around so that he would approach Dudley from the front so as not to startle him. Once they were side by side, Harry called across that they were to return to the castle. Dudley whined a little about it until Snape shouted in his other ear. One hastily corrected ascent later, the Muggle headed obediently to the shore, following the black robed teacher with Harry and Ron on either side.

0oo0oo0

Ron took a deep breath and opened his eyes. Harry was leaning back against his chest, their tangled hands gripping several pencils. When they had told Hermione about their intention to design and transfigure their own wedding bands, she had been a little concerned that they would lose themselves in the trance that was necessary for the protection and binding spells essential for the design to be a true reflection of their entwined lives.

They would be essentially auto-writing, or in this case auto-drawing, and after what happened to Harry when it came to trances and visions, she had insisted on being present when they made the attempt in case something went wrong. They chose a Saturday when Gryffindor wasn't playing Quidditch and shut themselves up in their room.

Hermione was sitting in the chair they had conjured for her - an electric blue plush Edwardian armchair - her wide eyes on their faces. She looked a little teary, and her hands were knotted in her robes. She didn't look scared or sad, though, and Ron wondered what they had said aloud during the trance to affect her that way.

"Hermy?" Ron cleared his throat, "You ok?"

"Yes," the whisper was awed, and Ron smiled at her hesitantly before looking down at the pad on Harry's lap. It was empty, though the paper showed clearly that there had been three pictures on it. Harry was still and lax in Ron's arms, and a moment's thought reassured the redhead that his partner was simply tired from their casting.

"Where…" Ron trailed off and Hermione pointed to the mantle above the fireplace. There was a small, plain wooden box there, that hadn't been when all this started. Ron could sense the tingle of new magic coming from it, as well as powerful protection charms. The box was sealed against all tampering, and some instinct told Ron that it would only open during their nuptials.

Harry stirred and collected the pencils from Ron, sending the pad to the top of the bookcase where it normally sat, and the pencils back to their box. He then turned on his side, snuggled into Ron's chest and went to sleep, 'stepping back' as he practiced the Occlumency. Ron rolled his eyes and Hermione blinked a little, then laughed softly.

"He looks so peaceful," Hermione whispered and Ron snorted. Harry was only a light sleeper when he wasn't practicing Occlumency, in order to be able to wake quickly. Right now Dobby could dance about the room in a tea cosy, singing carols at the top of his lungs and Harry wouldn't wake.

"Relax," he said in his normal voice, "He's too tired to wake unless there's some emergency. You can speak normally."

"Oh," Hermione couldn't seem to take her eyes off the man cuddled into Ron's chest, "Will you be casting any more spells like that?"

"Uh… oh, you mean the translation spell? I think so. Harry said that if this worked we should try producing some amulets for the family. We were going to try to have them all ready by Christmas. Do you still want to supervise? You've got to be pretty busy right now," Ron knew that Hermione took a few more classes than he did, and took her studying seriously to boot.

"I'd rather you didn't try this alone," she bit her lip, "But I didn't realise how… well, how _intimate_ this would be. You love each other so much…"

"We love you too, Hermy," Ron interrupted, "It's… it's just a different kind of love. You're our best friend."

The effort to articulate the feelings that he and Harry held for the Head Girl was well worth the effort when her smile lit up the room. Ron patted Harry's back and Summoned his chess set. There was no point in being bored while he acted as a combined mattress and teddy to his fiancé. Hermione levitated her armchair closer and they set a hover charm on the board so they could both reach it easily.

0oo0oo0

"Why won't she wake up?" Dudley frowned at the Healer and Harry shifted uneasily. Ron's arm snuck around his waist to soothe him, and he nodded at his partner in thanks. Life had reached an even more hectic pace lately, with the translation of the amulets for the Weasley family. Their mantle had gained six more boxes in the last few weeks, each with a name carved on the lid. From the magical signature on each box, Harry knew that only the intended recipient could open them. They would have to wait until Christmas to see what they had designed.

Healer Goodsby stood beside the Muggle, her hands folded at her waist. She was watching the teen closely, glancing up at Harry now and then. When they had first arrived at St Mungo's the Healer had kept herself between Harry and Dudley, but now that they were at Aunt Petunia's bedside she was focussing on Harry's cousin and his distress.

"We're sure that she will," Goodsby said gently, "Her injuries are completely healed, and the curses have been properly removed. I understand that some Muggles have been known to slip into a sleep like this. It's not a common condition with Wizards, we tend to wake as soon as whatever ails us has retreated."

"Lucky you," Dudley snapped, "That's no help to me!"

"Dudley," Harry beat Ron to it, but not by much, "Shouting at the Healers won't help."

"What will help then?" Dudley snapped at him, and Ron let go, moving to stand in front of Harry protectively, blocking him from his cousin's view. Harry placed his hand lightly in between Ron's shoulders, just touching lightly, letting Ron know he was all right.

"Dry up Dursley," Ron growled, sounding so much like Hagrid had that very first meeting that Harry laughed, his fingers explaining why before Ron could get angry with him, and the shock of hearing the words once directed at his father shut Dudley up.

"Healer Goodsby? Is there anything we can do?" Harry asked, not moving out of Ron's protection. She sighed and shook her head in regret. Dudley slumped and reached out to take his mothers hand.

"We can only wait for her to wake up," Goodsby replied, "We'll let Professor Dumbledore know the minute she does, so you can come see her."

Dudley nodded and Ron ushered Harry out of the ward, to give the Muggle some time alone with his mother, and put some space between Harry and his cousin. Harry leaned against the wall opposite the ward doors and smiled at his fiancé. From the tense look on Ron's face, the redhead was expecting Harry to make some kind of protest about his behaviour in there. Nothing was further from Harry's mind. There were times when it felt very good to be protected by someone else, and Harry had never had much experience of that as a child. Rather than discuss it though, he decided to change the subject to something much nicer. There was no one in the hallway with them at the moment, and no one would be able to sneak up on them.

"I gave the Headmaster his invitation this morning, and he's agreed to let us send the rest with the school owls tonight," he watched Ron's face light up, and smiled in response. Their wedding was approaching rapidly, and there was a lot to do if they were to be organised on time.

"Ok, we'll do it when the rest are asleep," Ron nodded, "We can hand Hermione, Neville, Hagrid, Remus and Professor McGonagal theirs as we see them tomorrow. Are you sure it's ok that people send their reply to Mum and Dad instead of us?"

"It makes sense," Harry nodded, "We wouldn't be able to explain all the owls to the rest of the school, and you know I don't want Malfoy nosing around it. The Death Eaters would be all over us."

"You're right," Ron came to lean against the wall, his hands in the pockets of his robe. He looked like he was thinking about something, and from the glances he was getting, Harry was betting that Ron wasn't too sure of his reaction.

"What if Dudley is still around then? The Healers can't say when his mother will wake, and…"

"Do you want him there?" Harry asked in surprise. He knew that Ron tolerated the Muggle for his sake, treating Dudley politely enough, like two strangers forced to work together. Ron sighed.

"He's your family," he shook his head, "I just thought… you might like to have your family there. I know that as a Muggle he won't understand… but the alternative is to leave him at the school for the Christmas holidays, and I think that Malfoy is staying too."

"We'll see," Harry said in a noncommittal voice. He didn't want to even think of Dudley's reaction to two men getting married. He'd heard enough of the Muggles comments about 'sissy boy queers' in his time at Privet Drive to know that the reaction wouldn't be a positive one. At the same time, leaving his cousin unsupervised at Hogwarts - the teachers didn't count - while Malfoy stalked him wasn't a good idea either. Ron cleared his throat, drawing Harry out of his circular thoughts, and he looked up at the redhead, who was going a little pink around the ears.

"We haven't discussed what we'll wear," Ron eyed the floor as if it might suddenly rise up and attack him. Harry frowned a little. He'd assumed that they would wear their formal robes; he certainly didn't have anything else worth wearing. The robes that Molly Weasley had bought him were nice enough for everyday wear, but not for a wedding. He'd had the formal ones repaired after the Valentines Ball, as he didn't fancy going shopping for a new set.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, and Ron shifted a little, eyeing him nervously, "I thought we'd wear our formal robes."

"There is a tradition in the Weasley family that the couple getting married wear a particular set of robes," Ron rubbed a hand over his head, "Mum owled me this morning before you and Dudley came down to breakfast about it. She wants to know our sizes so she can get started making them."

"Oh," Harry looked at him blankly. To be honest, he was worried that Mrs Weasley was going to be stuck doing far too much for their wedding and wouldn't have time to enjoy herself. When he said as much to Ron, his partner grinned, shaking his head fondly.

"After all this time, you haven't figured Mum out," Ron chided in a teasing tone. Relieved that his friend wasn't upset by that, Harry looked inquiring and waited for him to continue.

"Harry, there's nothing she'd like more than to organise the whole thing for us. And you know that we have some time when the holidays start to help her out."

"I was thinking… don't go mental at me, ok?" Harry hesitated, and Ron folded his arms, hitting his partner with his own inquiring look. Harry grinned and took a deep breath, "I was thinking that we could ask Dobby to come. I know that might seem strange, but he is a friend, and he's done so much for us already…"

"Good idea," Ron nodded, reaching out to rub Harry's arm, "And knowing Dobby he'll be eager to help us out. We'll have to ask Professor Dumbledore's permission to take him away from Hogwarts, but we can easily do up another invitation for him to make it all official."

Harry sighed in relief and thanked Ron with a very brief kiss, pulling back when he heard the doors open. Healer Goodsby smiled at them as she led Dudley out into the hallway. They made arrangements for Dudley to continue his weekly visits and headed back to school. They had a lot to do, and not much time to do it.

0oo0oo0


	13. Christmas Wedding

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Further warnings: a happy bit of fluff…mostly… oh just read it!

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Sympathetic Magic: Part Seven - Christmas and a Wedding

Ron stepped out of the fireplace and into his mother's arms, hugging her hard and laughing when she kissed him and started straightening his clothes. Harry sent the luggage on from the Leaky Cauldron and then Disapparated into the kitchen yard, opening the door immediately so Molly wouldn't think he was dithering outside or anything. She let go of her youngest son and turned to fuss over her adopted one, soon to be her son-in-law. Dobby was standing beside Harry, smiling nervously and Ron called him over to be introduced. The elf was coming with them today to meet Mrs Weasley, and would arrive two days before the wedding to finish helping with the preparation.

"Very nice to meet you," Molly said politely, if a little awkwardly, and Dobby beamed up at her.

"Dobby is very honoured, Madam. If Madam will show Dobby the chores, Dobby will get started. Dobby wants very much to help with Masters Harry and Wheezy's wedding," the elf looked around eagerly, and Ron nodded to his mother. Their invitation to the elf had brought on a storm of tears, followed by protestations of devotion and a very fixed desire to do as much work for them as was elfishly possible. Harry had given in when Dobby became overwrought and wrote to Mrs Weasley on the spot, asking her to have a list of things ready for Dobby to do.

Molly produced a list from her pocket and handed it over to the elf, which was seized eagerly and read from top to bottom. It wasn't very long, and Dobby's ears dropped a little in disappointment. Ron looked at his mother in desperation, and she seemed to understand.

"That's just to start with, though. I'm sure there will be plenty to do when the time gets closer," she said kindly and Dobby cheered right up. Ginny stepped out of the fireplace into a warm welcome and Ron took off his sooty cloak, intending to take it outside and dust it off. Dobby had it out of his hands in a flash and disappeared with it. Harry grinned at him and then moved to start levitating the luggage.

"Ron, you're to come and try these robes on right now," Molly grabbed his arms before he could follow his partner up stairs and lock them in his room. They had woken late this morning and Dudley had to pack still, which required them both working double time so as not to miss the train. They had taken the Muggle back to London on the Hogwarts Express to meet Aunt Marge at the main entrance. Dudley would spend the Christmas holidays with her before returning to Smeltings.

Professor Dumbledore had told them that the Muggle would be safe enough at school as Voldemort was rumoured to be out of the country. Professor Sinistra would continue to take Harry's cousin to St Mungo's once a week to visit his mother, as Aunt Petunia hadn't woken from her sleep yet. Harry had convinced Ron that he didn't want Dudley at their wedding, and Ron had given up trying to persuade his partner when Harry had gotten cross and stormed off. Relieved that they were still able to argue with each other and not panic, Ron hadn't minded too much, and was ready to 'kiss and make up' when Harry returned, a lot calmer than before. Truthfully, the argument had been mostly Ron's fault. He hadn't been listening to Harry's wishes, mainly because he wanted the day to be regret free for his lover.

"I've only been here two minutes," Ron protested, gazing at Harry's back with longing. His mother made that impatient noise that all her children were trained not to ignore and Ron let her bundle him off to her workroom. He stood on the stool as indicated and took off his school uniform and shoes, shivering in the cool air until his mother was ready. She hit him with a quick cleansing spell to remove the last of the soot and then helped him into the robes she had made. The outer robes were a pale blue and his name in the Weasley family script was carefully embroidered in darker blue on the cuffs, collar, and hems. The under robe bore the family crest above his heart, and was the same dark blue as the writing, shot through with silver threads. Once the ceremony was complete a new family crest, that of his and Harry's combined, would appear in its place. Any trained Witch or Wizard would be able to read their heraldry from the new crest.

"Is Harry taking our name, or keeping his own?" Molly asked as she twitched and measured the robes. They were warm and Ron smoothed them carefully. He was about to say something that would either get him in a lot of trouble, or please his mother no end. He'd thought long and hard about this, and his decision hadn't been an easy one, not because he was worried his mother would be angry, but because he wasn't too sure of Harry's reaction. There hadn't been time to discuss this with his partner, as school had been unusually busy.

"He's the last of the Potter's, mum," Ron took a deep breath, "I thought that I would change my name to his. You've got five other sons to carry on the Weasley name, not to mention all our cousins. Once Harry is married there are no more Potters, and any children we might have…"

"Children?" Molly fixed him with a startled look and Ron blushed, "Ronald Weasley, you're not…"

"No!" he exclaimed, "Neither is he… but we both want family. You know how devoted he is to us, and you should see him with the younger students in our House. In fact he takes care of the younger kids for nearly all the Houses. He'll be a great parent, and I want to give him that chance."

"Does he know about male pregnancy?" Molly bent and adjusted a hem before stepping back and motioning for Ron to get down and walk around the small room. Ron shrugged, stepping down lightly and walking as ordered. The robes were the right height and his mother motioned for them to come off.

"I don't think so, we haven't really discussed it. I think that he thinks we'll adopt or something, but we can decide about this later, when we're out of school," Ron looked his mother in the eye, "You don't mind?"

"Of course not dear," Molly sniffed, "I think it's lovely."

Ron nodded and pulled his uniform back on. Now all he had to do was bring the subject up with Harry. It would have to be soon, as his mother was bound to mention it. He headed upstairs obediently to send his partner down for his fitting. They could talk about it tonight in bed.

0oo0oo0

"Hello," Harry grinned, rather cross-eyed at Ron, who was lying almost on top of him. His partner had taken Harry's glasses off while Harry was sealing the door and stowed them away safely on the dresser, before tackling him onto the bed. Ron grinned back and leaned down to kiss him, changing his mind at the last minute to lick Harry from chin to temple. Harry yelled and squirmed, pushing to get his laughing-like-a-fool partner off him. Ron fought back, wriggling to stay on top and sending his fingers to all of Harry's ticklish spots.

"Stop it!" Harry yelled, tickling in return, "You daft bugger!"

"Awww, don't you love me any more?" Ron cooed and Harry started laughing helplessly, unable to fight back at all. Ron stopped tickling him, moving to cuddle up to him instead. When it was possible to breathe Harry rubbed the redheads shoulder affectionately. Ron just smiled back at him, his fingers stroking over Harry's shoulder in turn.

"Hey, I need to talk to you," Ron said quietly, "Did you like your robes?"

"Yeah," Harry grinned, "I can't believe how nice your mum is. She had my name on them in some kind of script I've never seen before. She even found out my mum and dad's family crest."

"Yeah, when the vows are sealed our two crests will merge to make a new one," Ron nodded, "And either one of us will change our name, or we hyphenate."

Harry's eyes widened in surprise. He would become a Weasley? A properly named Weasley - Harry Weasley. He grinned up at his friend, not at all upset that he'd become a fully named part of Ron's family.

"Harry Weasley," he laughed at his friend's expression. Ron shook his head, a serious expression on his face. The man pinning Harry so comfortably to the bed raised a hand to stroke his face. From this simple gesture, Harry knew that whatever Ron was about to say was deadly serious.

"Ronald Potter," he countered, "You're the last of the Potter family, and I think it's important that we continue the name. When we have kids we can pass your name on."

Harry blinked in astonishment and felt tears form in his eyes. Embarrassed, he ducked his head a little. He'd always wanted a family - he'd made no secret of the fact that he envied his partner for having such a large and caring one. Ron's hand cupped his face and a thumb brushed under one eye. Warm lips brushed his and Harry nodded, accepting the gift his partner was trying to give him. He looked up with a grateful smile and they spent a few moments in silence, just breathing together.

"Kids?" he asked after a moment, his voice not as steady as he would have liked. Ron nodded and squirmed a bit, making Harry protest with a wordless noise and wriggle until they were comfortable. They ended up settled on their sides, lying face to face with an arm and leg thrown casually over each other.

"Yeah," Ron grinned, "You and me and a family. Our very own kids. There's a couple of ways to make it happen, but in some cases, Harry, Wizards can get pregnant, just like a Witch."

"You'd turn into a girl?" Harry gaped and Ron laughed, lost his balance and fell off the bed. Harry jolted upright, and then relaxed when his friend continued to laugh, waving a hand rather helplessly. He waited until Ron had calmed down and used the hand to pull him back onto the mattress, rolling so the still giggling redhead was squashed against the wall with Harry pinning him down protectively.

"No you daft bugger," Ron finally managed to speak, "There's a whole magic to it… look never mind. We'll cross that bridge when we want to, ok?"

"Ok," Harry nodded and dipped his head for a long solemn kiss. Just the knowledge that it would be possible for him and Ron to create children that were truly theirs was enough for now. They weren't ready to be parents with Voldemort still on the loose. Once they'd defeated their enemy they could start to think about starting their family.

0oo0oo0

Molly looked around the airy kitchen with a smile, bending to inspect the traditional Wizard stove and then wandering out to the laundry and empty conservatory. Ron watched her nervously. This was his mother's first trip to their house, and though it was still empty, he really wanted her to like it. He knew that it was very different to the Burrow - which was small, but all anyone could wish for in familial love and safety. He was hoping that one day his and Harry's house would be as homelike as his childhood home. He knew that if Harry had any say in the matter it would be.

"Ron!" Harry yelled from upstairs, "Come on, I've found the centre of the house!"

His partner was looking for the magical centre of the house in order for their casting to be strongest. The spell to find the centre required peace and solitude, a bit of meditation and talent in Divination. Harry was the one with the proven track record there, so the task had fallen to him. When the house had been completed they had cast the usual unbreakable charms on it, as well as security spells to stop anyone breaking in for fun or malicious damage. Harry's motorbike was stored in the conservatory, and they'd made the glass darken to hide it. Once they were living at the house fulltime they'd probably get around to building a shed for the bike at the very least. Neville had included a driveway in the design they were going to plant this Easter, so they didn't have to worry about ruining the garden with wheel ruts.

The spells they were about to cast were a lot more powerful than the unbreakable charms, and included an Apparation limiting spell, so that only the Witches and Wizards that the house recognised as family would be able to just drop in. Everyone else would have to arrive outside and walk up the front path. They were also going to put in the elastic walls spell that would let them add floors and rooms to the house as their need for more space grew. It wouldn't be as crowded as Ron's childhood home, but he had a sneaking suspicion that he and Harry would find the place full of guests every day for a long time to come.

"Hey, you awake?" Harry's voice was amused and Ron blinked at him, grinning in reply. Harry was floating cross-legged in the air above the stairs that led up from the kitchen. Ron sat on the floor, got comfortable, and levitated himself to join his partner. Their fingers met and brushed, before clinging together, a warm current flowing from the contact to their bond.

"Ready," Ron took a deep breath and synchronised their power, sinking deep into the bond in order to let Harry, who had memorised the spells, call up the necessary powers for their casting, holding them in abeyance so Ron could do what was necessary to get the house properly protected and set the wards deep into the very structure of the house.

He came back to himself lying on the floor, his head in Harry's lap, Harry's hands in his hair, rubbing and soothing idly. When he opened his eyes he saw Harry was leaning his back against the cupboard under the stairs, his legs out straight while Ron curled partially in his lap. There were footsteps overhead, and Ron glanced up at his partner. Harry was staring into space, his face calm and content.

"You awake?" Ron parroted the dark haired man's words back to him and earned himself a very comfortable chuckle and pulled hair, "Oi!"

"What?" Harry asked innocently. Ron writhed upright, going for his friend's ribs and Harry shrieked, squirming away and onto his feet. Ron followed him closely, chasing him through the library with its partially full shelves - Dobby had been forced to start shipping their unused books to the house when their bookshelves reached bursting point in the dorm - back into the hall and through the front room, into the overgrown garden, back around the house to enter through the kitchen, running up the stairs past the second and third floor, onto the fourth floor that hadn't been there this morning, past Mrs Weasley and up the stairs to the attic.

He cornered Harry there and tickled him mercilessly, loving the helpless riff of laughter and the utterly enchanting giggles that Harry was uttering. They rolled over and over, getting dust all over their clothes, ignoring the smiling Witch at the top of the stairs, the cool winter light more than enough for them to see what they were doing. This was Ron's favourite game. His partner was so controlled most of the time, concealing his true feelings behind the polite mask that the Dursley's had forced him to adopt at a young age, that the sound of unrestrained humour was like music to Ron's ears.

He stopped finally and fell to one side, gasping for air as Harry tried to stifle the last of the giggles, trembling and clinging to the hem of Ron's robe. Their mother had left them to it, heading back down to walk through the house again.

"I hate it when you do that," Harry's shaking voice was not terribly convincing, and Ron turned his head to smirk at the purely happy man beside him. A happy Harry was a rare sight, and Ron did his best to memorise the moment.

"I know," Ron got up on one elbow, brushing dusty hair out of Harry's eyes, "But you forgive me every time."

He felt his insides melt a little at the strong look of love and devotion he got - something that he'd only seen previously when his parents looked at each other. He felt his face soften and he leaned down for a gentle kiss, rubbing his thumb on Harry's temple softly. They pulled back after a long moment and Ron got up, hauling Harry to his feet and hitting him with a cleaning spell. Harry obligingly returned the gesture and Ron went to the top of the stairs.

"Did you add another floor?" he asked as he started down, hearing Harry's steps behind him. He could feel the new protection wards prickling along his skin; a sensation that would subside once they'd had time to properly seep into the walls. By Easter they would be a mild background tingle that he'd only be able to notice if he really concentrated or they activated in response to a threat.

"Yeah," Harry nodded, "You said something about us having a lot of guests, and so I added a guest bathroom and some bedrooms. Besides, if we have your sister, Hermy and Neville over for the planting this Easter we'll need the room. I thought your parents would stop by and the twins at the very least."

"You don't mind?" Ron looked back over his shoulder as he reached the fourth floor, heading towards the nearest door to have a look. Harry's hand stopped him, and Ron turned into the hug that Harry was offering.

"Of course I don't mind," Harry's mutter in his ear was very comforting, "Don't be daft."

0oo0oo0

One look at Percy's face on Christmas morning told Harry that today was not going to be a good day. Bill and Charlie had been happy to see Ron and had also greeted Harry with hugs and smiles, something that made him smile in surprise. The twins were their usual exuberant selves, and Ginny had long since accepted his presence in her family. Arthur and Molly were in the kitchen, working together in calm harmony that Harry secretly hoped that he and Ron would one day develop.

"Good morning, Percy," Ron didn't seem to notice his older brothers very pinched and cold expression. A closer glance showed Harry he had been wrong - Ron was more than aware of Percy's expression as evinced by the tension in his shoulders. Percy's mouth got even tighter.

"Good morning," he nodded stiffly. Harry took a calming breath - it had to happen eventually. He'd been waiting for someone to realise that he wasn't good enough to be a part of this family. He'd just have to be as calm as he could. He wouldn't shame Ron with an outburst.

"Good morning, Percy," he couldn't ignore the man, not after he'd already hugged the rest of the family. Suppressing a sigh, Harry sat in the empty seat beside Fred. There was no reply, but Harry pretended not to notice, fiddling with a fork and keeping his head down. It took a minute for him to realise that there was complete silence in the kitchen, and he glanced up cautiously. Everyone was glaring at the third oldest son, who was glaring at Harry with distaste.

"Harry said good morning, Percival," Fred's voice was cold, and Harry shook his head putting a hand on Fred's wrist. He wasn't going to be the reason the family stopped talking to Percy again, they'd only just got him back.

"It's ok, Fred," Harry pleaded, "Don't…"

Fred gave him a long look and then nodded. Harry was grateful that the twin had stopped the confrontation. He didn't want to ruin Christmas for the family, and Percy obviously had some problems coming to terms with the inclusion of Harry. He'd never hoped for more than polite acceptance from Ron's family, and therefore he'd been very surprised when they'd actually seemed to like him. Arthur stalked over to the table, glared at the former Head Boy and placed a large plate of toast on the table.

"Start, children," he said in a quiet voice, and went back into the kitchen. Bill picked up the toast and offered it to Ginny, who thanked him in a quiet voice. Fred glanced around and put a hand in his pocket. Harry really hoped there was a firework in there or something to break the tension.

Sure enough, moments later there was a loud bang, and people reacted normally to the explosion. Harry forced himself to grin at the twin's antics as Molly Weasley told them off. He passed the jam to George as requested, and answered Bill's questions about the last Quidditch matches played at school. Ron chimed in with Ginny; gloating that they'd get to see two International teams training and even see a few games. Fred and George reacted as could be expected, with Charlie adding his two Knuts worth.

Molly and Arthur joined them, bringing platters of hot food with them. Harry squeezed up to allow Arthur to sit next to him, and kept his eyes on his plate. He could stay quiet and maybe even find a way to get out of the house for a while so there wouldn't be any further unpleasantness. What he was going to do about the wedding was beyond him. He wasn't going to call it off, and he knew that Ron wouldn't want that either. Maybe they should postpone it… Harry bit his lip and pushed the thoughts away. He'd leave the Weasley's to their celebration today and talk to Ron tonight.

0oo0oo0

"I'm thinking I should take Dobby's present to him," Ron frowned when Harry whispered that in his ear as they did the washing up with the twins. He tapped his fingers on the plate he was drying and bit his lip. Whatever was wrong with Percy was not so subtly aimed at Harry, and his partner had probably decided it would be better to disappear for a little while. Harry's respect for and envy of his family would probably drive him away from any confrontations today of all days. Harry put a lot of store in birthdays and holidays, probably because his experience of them had always been so poor.

He knew that Harry loved him and he knew that his partner was just reacting to his childhood training. It still hurt that Harry would choose to leave him behind rather than face the hurt with him. Ron was working on it - working on making Harry see that it was ok to stay, to tough it out. That what he was feeling was just as important as the people around him. Harry didn't panic any more when it was he and Ron having a tiff, so they had made some progress. At the same time he knew to the depths of his soul, that Harry would never abandon him to physical danger. His partner wasn't afraid of being hurt, he was afraid of being rejected.

"No, I don't think that's a good idea," Ron replied, looking at Harry closely, "No one wants you gone, mate. Whatever Percy's problem is, he'll get over it or he'll tell us about it and we can deal with him."

"You're not going are you?" George asked in Harry's ear and Ron watched his fiancé jump. Harry blushed and George slung an arm around the dark haired mans shoulders. The twin shook Harry in a friendly manner and let him go. Ron was grateful that George hadn't hung on too long - Harry still tended to tense up a little when handled by people other than Ron for too long.

"Percy has a pineapple up his arse over Ron changing his name to Potter," George told them both, and Harry bit his lip. Ron groaned under his breath and shook his head. Harry was worried enough about the family accepting him without bloody Percival Weatherby adding his two Knuts worth.

"See?" the dark haired teen frowned at his lover, "I knew your family would hate the idea. Ron…"

"Shut up," Ron put his tea towel down and leaned in to kiss Harry silent, "I'm changing my name to Potter the minute we graduate. I will not let you end your family name to make Percy happy."

Harry was red in the face and breathing a little hard in response to the kiss. Ron put his hands on his fiancé's face, his palms cupping Harry's cheeks, thumbs caressing Harry's temples, fingers threaded through Harry's untameable hair. The green eyes were calming though, and his breathing was evening out as Ron stared deeply into his eyes, trying to will his partner to see that he was happy about their marital arrangements. The scalp massage was melting Harry's spine almost against his will, and Ron leaned in for another warm long kiss, only breaking it when they ran completely out of air.

"Ronald Potter," he smiled, "It has a nice ring to it."

"Ronny Potter," Fred broke the moment by snorting and flicking suds at them, "You'll be Ronny the Potty if you don't get on with the drying up."

"Oi!" Harry protested, "That's my future husband you're talking to!"

Ron let Harry defend him, getting into a suds flinging war that soon had the kitchen walls, floor and ceiling liberally decorated with splashes of soap. He and George retreated to the table, watching Harry thoroughly drench Fred with wide grins. George gave Ron a look that said he understood how rare it was for Harry to play happily like this.

"What on earth are you boys doing in there?" Molly shouted from the front room. Ron had flashbacks to similar moments, usually when he was the one on the receiving end of the drenching. A memory that he had taken for granted until he'd met lonely Harry.

"Nothing mum!" he and George chorused cheerfully, and started laughing. Ron had to sit down in the end. They'd have to clean the whole kitchen and get changed into dry clothes, but from the happy glow in Harry's eyes it was worth it.

0oo0oo0

Harry realised that his adoptive mother and father had taken the opportunity to have words with Percy while he and Fred almost demolished the kitchen. A moment's work with Ron had cleaned it up and the redhead had pulled Harry upstairs to change, mumbling under his breath about 'can't take you any where' and 'better not try that on me, Potter'. He'd been soundly kissed and enthusiastically groped the minute the door closed behind them, and only the spectre of Molly Weasley coming up the stairs to get them prevented the groping from developing into something more pleasurable.

He and Ron took the same seat they had last year, and Harry cuddled up to his partner, his fingers rubbing /love you/ into Ron's waist over and over again. From the way Ron was settling against him warmly, Harry knew he had his partner's undivided attention. Arthur had the family tin, and Molly closed her eyes, reaching in and rummaging around before pulling a card out.

"Ron!" she read it out clearly and Harry snickered when his friend jumped and sat up, as if he'd just been caught by Hermione skiving off his homework, "You're Santa, dear."

"Oh," Ron sighed, kissed Harry on the cheek and got up, ambling over to the tree that sat in one of the windows looking over the vegetable garden. Harry drew his knees up and rested his arms on them, watching as his partner fished around under the tree for a present. From the snickers that the twins were making they'd bewitched the presents to hide when Ron reached for them. He grinned when Ron stood up, glared at his brothers and leaned into the bond to break the charm.

"How did you do that?" George gaped as the presents materialised obediently and stayed in one place when Ron reached for them.

"Magic," Harry chortled and buried his face in his arms, laughing hard. He heard Ron snort and felt long fingers brush his hair lightly as Ron handed a parcel to his mother. Bill and Charlie were also sniggering, and Ginny was laughing outright.

"Seriously," Percy said coldly, "In order to break that spell, Ron would have to either use some kind of Dark Magic, or be tapping into a power that wasn't his own."

Harry stopped laughing and lifted his head, gaping at the former Head Boy. How could he possibly think that Ron or Harry would have anything to do with the Dark Arts? Harry's past losses to old Voldemort aside, they had both fought the Death Eaters on several occasions and opposed the self styled Dark Lord himself. He looked around at the rest of Ron's siblings and realised that they didn't know about his true partnership with Ron at all. A glance at Molly and Arthur confirmed this. He wasn't sure why they hadn't said anything, or even why he and Ron hadn't said anything, but he couldn't let the accusation of Dark Magic stand.

"Percy," Harry shook his head, "Ron and I are true life partners. We practice Sympathetic Magic."

"What?" Bill sat up straight, his earring swaying with the sudden movement, "You're a Sympathetic partnership as well? Bloody hell, Ron, why didn't you say so? I thought you were getting married because you were up the duff!"

Harry bit back on a giggle and shook his head. It seemed too strange to hear that accusation levelled at a man, magic or not. Ron grinned over at him, obviously unconcerned about being labelled as different from the rest of the Wizarding world. Harry hated to be different, yet Ron craved distinction from his large family. It was a strange mix, but one that worked. Ron stopped Harry from being overly shy.

"Well go on then, show us a trick!" Fred urged, and Harry glanced over at Ron curiously. Ron shrugged at him, and Harry got up. Reading each other's movements they raised their wand less hands and leaned into the bond to silently distribute the presents, piling them neatly in the lap of each recipient there.

"How's that?" Ron asked cheekily, and Charlie laughed, breaking the astonished silence. Molly beamed at them both and Harry sat down again, smiling back at her. The distribution of the gifts wasn't much different to doing the washing up from the garden. Ginny had never asked them how they'd managed that and Harry wondered idly why not. He dismissed the thought and watched his partners family open their presents.

"What's this?" Fred held up the wooden box with his name carved into the lid. Harry tensed a little as the twin read the label, "Hey, no fair. If you two aren't getting presents you shouldn't be giving them!"

"It's not a proper gift," Harry rushed to defend them both, "Ron and I… wanted to make sure that you were all protected. We've been having all this extra training for the partnership, and we thought that we should put it to good use."

"What is it?" George had unearthed his box, and shook it carefully.

"Boom!" Ron roared and fell about laughing when George startled so badly the box went flying into the air. Harry had to bite his lips to keep his own laughter under control. He could hear Arthur sniggering as George retrieved the box from under the table and scowled at Ron. Charlie nudged the still laughing Ron off his leg and looked over at Harry.

"Seriously, though, what is it, Harry?" Charlie asked and Harry shrugged. He remembered the effort that had gone into the creation of these gifts and the charms that had been woven into each, but as to what they looked like, or even were he had no idea. Neither did Ron.

"We really don't know," he sighed, "It's a piece of jewellery of some kind, but we were in a trance when we designed them and only you can open the box. Once it comes in contact with your skin it will activate the charms."

Molly opened her box, and gasped at the bracelet inside. It was an intricate web of gold and silver bands, only two fingers wide. Her husband admired it and then helped her slip it on. Harry heard the hum as the charms activated through their bond and the bracelet adjusted so it was the perfect fit. Arthur opened his next, discovering an armband, designed to wrap around his biceps. Made of the same metals, but slightly different in the weave, it also hummed as he slid it on without hesitation.

Bill and Charlie also had armbands, and Ginny had a bracelet. No two designs were the same, though there was a common woven pattern through each of them. Harry touched the band on Ginny's wrist and smiled at her. It was faintly warm, which would tell the Weasley's that the charms were active.

"That's the Weasley knot," he told her, drawing on the bond for the information, "Everyone has it, and then their own name as well. You can take them off and store them in the box when you don't want to wear them, though the longer you do the better they can protect you."

"Brilliant," Fred lifted an amulet on a silver chain from his box, the hum starting as the clasp was closed around his neck. The amulet was round, but the Weasley knot was easily visible now that Harry had pointed it out. George's amulet was subtly different, even though the twins were identical in appearance. That made sense; even identical twins had differences in personality, ability and temperament.

Percy opened his box and lifted the amulet inside. He ran a thumb over it, and for a moment Harry thought that he was going to reject the gift. Then the clasp was closed and Harry felt the final hum as the charms activated.

"Where are yours?" Bill asked eyeing them over, and Harry smiled at Ron, wondering just what they had created for themselves. The eldest Weasley sibling was rubbing a thumb over the armband he wore, and Harry figured he was divining what charms had been laid upon his gift, using his skills that had been honed in his job as a curse breaker for Gringotts.

"We won't see them until the fifth of January," Ron answered idly, coming to curl up with Harry on the floor once more, "We designed our wedding bands, but they sealed themselves away before we came out of the trance."

"Trance?" Molly frowned, and Harry nodded. He knew from his studies that magic that was practiced in an altered state was very dangerous, and should not be attempted without sufficient safe guards.

"Professor Flitwick taught us the basics, Professor Snape elaborated, and Professor McGonagall extended our knowledge of trance work," Harry smiled up at her, very content with Ron's head on his shoulder and arms around his waist, "We drew the designs while we were under and the translated them from the paper to reality. Hermione watched over us while we did it. She's been attending the extra lessons we take so that she could help us practice and supervise us when we did the trance work."

"Which you usually fell asleep after," Ron muttered in his ear. Harry turned his head into the red hair and kissed it lightly in apology. The trances were doubly tiring to him as he practiced the Occlumency at the same time to avoid attracting Voldemort's attention. The family around them stirred as one and returned to the business of opening presents, thanking each other and generally making happy memories. Harry felt better for knowing that he and Ron had at least done something to protect them from the dangers that stalked their world.

0oo0oo0


	14. Christmas Wedding 2

"This is huge, Harry," Charlie pulled his head out of the cupboard under the stairs and grinned at his brothers fiancé. Harry returned the grin and shook his head, remembering another cupboard in Surrey. He'd been happy enough under the Dursley's stairs, the small space had seemed comforting to him.

"It's bigger than mine used to be," he agreed absently, missing the funny look on Charlie's face. The dragon breeder shut the door and straightened, looking at him seriously.

"Did you spend a lot of time in the cupboard under the stairs?" the question was asked lightly, the tone at odds with the expression on Charlie's face. Harry laughed and shrugged, not at all worried. The cupboard under the stairs had been his haven for ten years. As long as he was in that cupboard he was safe, and allowed to be himself.

"I only moved into Dudley's second bedroom the first summer I came back from Hogwarts. It wasn't as nice as the cupboard - it was full of broken toys I wasn't allowed to play with. Relax, Charlie, you're going to burst something if you keep doing that," Harry put a hand on the very tense shoulder, "It's ok. I'm not going to try and move in there or anything."

Charlie snarled and stormed towards the front door, slamming it behind him so loudly that Ron yelled in alarm and headed down the stairs at a run. The rest of the family had wanted to see the new house and Ron had suggested an excursion on Boxing Day. It would allow him and Harry to add the family to the Apparate-allowed spell, and his partner wanted to show off his new home as well.

"What happened?" Ron skidded to a halt beside Harry, who bit his lip and shook his head. He shouldn't have let his guard down like that. He sighed and ran a hand through messy hair. He'd just have to hope that Charlie would be able to keep this to himself. After the tension from Percy yesterday, the last thing Harry wanted was another row.

"Nothing, I said the wrong thing I guess," Harry smiled at his confused partner, "Don't worry about it."

"Pray, gentlemen, I have a question. Why is brother Charles outside screaming something about a decade?" Fred popped up from the kitchen, and Harry shook his head. So much for hoping for the best. He had to deal with this now, before Molly and Arthur got involved.

"I'll go talk to him," Harry offered, "Where is he?"

"Kicking snow drifts in the back yard," Fred replied and Harry headed down the stairs, Summoning his cloak from the laundry. The air outside was crisp and cool, with the promise of more snow in the dark clouds overhead. He followed the angry shouts and found Charlie kicking the snow around viciously.

"Charlie!" he shouted, but was ignored. The wind was starting to pick up a bit, and Charlie was shrieking 'ten years!' along with a very impressive array of profanity, some of which sounded like it was Romanian. Harry watched him for a moment, tried shouting to get his attention again and then lost patience, running forward to tackle Charlie into the snow drift he was about to start kicking.

They wrestled around together, Harry finally managing to squirm on top and hold the very angry man down. Charlie glared up at him and Harry almost let go. Some kind of instinct kicked in and he tightened his grip instead. You don't let go of dangerous things that might attack you - Hagrid had taught them that.

"They locked you in a cupboard!" Charlie protested and Harry couldn't help it, he laughed. The confused expression on Charlie's face was a welcome one - it meant that he would at least listen to Harry now. Harry had come to realise that the Weasley's tended to see his childhood as one long horror story, and regarded any evidence that he hadn't had the same things they had whilst growing up as further evidence of abuse. On the contrary, it was the unusual aspects of Harry's childhood that had been the safest for him. When the Dursley's treated him like everyone else, Harry had the most problems with them.

"Listen, as sick as this may sound, I actually liked that cupboard. It was safe and I didn't get punished because my property was out of place when I slept in it. That was all I knew until I got to Hogwarts, and it wasn't that bad," Harry leaned his weight into Charlie when he bucked indignantly, "Stop it, Charlie."

"You must have known it was wrong!" Charlie spluttered, "Surely…"

"Yes, I knew it was wrong. I knew that other kids had proper bedrooms with proper furniture. But Charlie, all my life Dudley has been the favourite one. He got the toys and the sweets and the surprises. I got the chores and the punishments. There were two ways to deal with it, and looking back I guess I figured that out when I was very little. I could become as big a bully as he outside of that house, or I could do my best to make sure that I never became him. I'm kind of proud of my choice."

Harry watched his soon to be brother-in-law think about this. That was the first time Harry had ever tried to explain to someone else why he acted the way he did. It was kind of freeing in a way. Charlie grinned up at him, and nodded.

"I get it," he told the man sitting on him, "I'm sorry I went mental. It's just…"

"Unfair," Harry crossed his eyes and Charlie laughed. Seeing that the temper that had been flushing Charlie's face had receded, Harry loosened his grip. Charlie rolled him over into the snow in a heartbeat, grabbing a handful of the cold stuff and ramming it down the front of Harry's jumper. When Harry yelled the well-muscled man let go and jumped back. Harry flung a handful at his almost brother, following it up with a pounce. He missed, but managed to get hold of an ankle, tipping Charlie onto his arse and nailing him with a handful of snow before eeling away and getting to his feet.

"Harry!" George called and Harry turned, getting a snowball in the face as a result. His glasses protected his eyes from the cold stuff, but he had to wipe the remnants off with a cold hand. The first snowflakes drifted down as he retaliated with another badly packed snowball. He ducked and rolled, avoiding the counter attack from Fred with the ease of a good memory. The school snow fights had given him plenty of time to work out how Fred and George operated. Charlie nailed him with another snowball though, and then Ron was at his back. Harry caught a glimpse of Ginny and Bill from the corner of his eyes, and grinned. Molly and Arthur were sneaking up behind them, armed with snowballs too.

Snow fights were much more fun when it was family. And this one had the added bonus of making Charlie forget his outrage.

0oo0oo0

"You're brave," Ron muttered into Harry's ear. His partner was half asleep, and made a small noise of inquiry. Being sprawled face down mostly on Ron with the small of his back rubbed soothingly tended to put Harry out like a light. The snow fight had only ended when the snowfall made it too dark to properly see each other. They'd all returned to the Burrow and had a late tea. Harry and Ron had retired for some quality time together not long after.

"No one ever tackles Charlie when he's in that bad of a mood," Ron wondered what had happened to make Charlie go off the deep end like that, but knew better than to ask. Charlie wasn't angry with Harry, and given that his partner wasn't telling Ron anything about their conversation, that meant that it had something to do with the Dursley's.

"The twins used to say that Charlie is so good with dragons because they're the only ones on the planet with a worse temper than him," Ron revealed this bit of family trivia with a light chuckle. Harry's breath stuttered lightly for a moment, as close to laughter as he could get when he was warm and sleepy like this.

There was a knock at the door, followed very closely by the twins. They hadn't bothered with a privacy spell, too tired to do anything other than sleep. Whoever woke up first tomorrow would slap a spell on the door and then wake the other in the preferred method of his choice.

Harry didn't even stir at the slight noise of their entry, too close to sleep to react to any minor disturbance. Ron glared at his brothers anyway, on principal. It wouldn't do for them to get the idea that they could just barge in whenever they liked - he wanted his family to be comfortable with him and his partner, but not to the point that they could just walk in on them when they were doing more intimate things.

"Hey, we just came to ask if you wanted to go in to Muggle London tomorrow," Fred raised his hands defensively, while George eyed Harry speculatively, "Ginny wants to go to the bookstores - you two have hooked her on Muggle fiction and we thought it would be a lark."

"What are you rubbing under there?" George asked suddenly, and then blushed, "Did I say that out loud?"

Ron laughed, and Harry made a small noise of protest at the jostling, settling with a sigh when Ron's fingers sped up for a moment. Fred was sniggering at his red-faced twin, and Ron rolled his eyes. He felt his partner take a deep breath and 'step back', leaving him without even moving as the Occlumency kicked in.

"His back, ok?" Ron managed to get his irritation across to them without raising his voice and waking the now sleeping Harry, "He's asleep now, so shut it. I'll ask him in the morning."

"What did he just do?" Fred was frowning now, "He seems… smaller."

"Occlumency. It's the defence that Snape was supposed to teach him against Voldemort. This way the Dark Lord can't get into Harry's head," Ron sighed. Even though he knew it was for Harry's protection as well as his own, it still hurt to feel his lovers presence diminish.

"I thought that mum said…" Fred broke off and Ron shook his head. There were no secrets in his family - or if there were, it took a lot of effort to keep them.

"He learned in the summer holidays before he… left the Dursley's," that was as much as Ron was willing to say and his brothers dropped the subject. They might not be the subtlest of people when dealing with the family, but they recognised taboo topics when they saw them.

Ron nodded goodnight to them and watched them leave, choosing to seal the door behind them and extinguish the candle with a well-placed spell. Whatever chance he'd had to find out why Charlie had gotten so riled up was gone now. It didn't matter, one of these days Harry would tell him all about it. Ron could wait until then.

0oo0oo0

The Weasley's in Muggle London were a sight to behold. As children of a Wizard who was openly fascinated with Muggles, they knew enough about the way Muggle transport worked to get around fairly easily. The twins spent most of the trip muttering together over the maps they had of London, and the Muggle clothes and behaviour fascinated Ginny and Ron.

Harry spent the trip looking out the window and thinking about the books he and Ron already had. It consisted mainly of fiction, with a few Muggle gardening and home renovation books. When they left school, he and Ron would be cooking for themselves - something that Harry was fairly accomplished at when using Muggle methods. He had Molly's home reference spell books for the Wizarding style of cooking, but was wondering if he could convert a Muggle cookbook into something that a Wizard could use. From their stint of camping, Harry knew that Ron's cooking skills were haphazard at best.

"Harry!" Ron shouted from the bottom of the stairs, and Harry scrambled out of his seat and down the stairs, waving an apology to the conductor as he leapt out, watching the old Routemaster bus lumber off again. It was cold, and Harry was glad of his leather riding jacket gloves and boots. He'd teamed them with jeans that had Ron drooling this morning, and promising him a very pleasurable afternoon. They were heading back to the house with their purchases, rather than cluttering Ron's already cluttered room.

"Sorry," Harry grinned at the four red heads, "Got lost in my thoughts."

"Scary place?" Fred teased and Harry nodded, rolling his eyes. George snorted and Ginny just shook her head, turning towards the nearest bookstore.

"Come on it's freezing!" she ordered and Ron added weight to the command by grabbing Harry's elbow and dragging him forward. Harry had a wistful vision of the future - he and Ron both grey haired and Ron dragging him toward a bookstore eagerly.

"Which way to the mysteries?" Ginny asked Harry, and he pointed to the right sign, slipping away to browse through the cookbooks carefully. He found several that had a wide range of recipes that he would be able to adjust for the use of magic, and tucked the stack under his arm. He and Ron had brought their bank cards with them today to save them having to worry about getting Muggle notes from Gringotts. Ron still had a few book vouchers left from his birthday as well, and when Harry found him he was hip deep in murder and mayhem.

"Find anything interesting?" Harry breathed in his ear and smothered a smile when Ron closed his eyes and leaned back into him. Ears were a weak point for Ron. He leaned into the slender body in front of him, sending warm puffs of air around the rim of Ron's ear, ignoring the Muggles around him for a moment.

"A few books you'll like," Ron swallowed hard, "You?"

"Yeah," Harry sighed, "A few."

Ron shivered and Harry chuckled lightly, dropping a kiss on the ear in question before pulling slowly away, giving Ron time to find his feet again. His lover picked up the books he was interested in and they went looking for Ginny, who was giggling over an Egyptology book in the history section, and the twins who were snorting over the fantasy books.

Three bookstores later they had run out of book vouchers and the will to shop. Harry directed them to Camden Town for their dinner, though the twins kept getting distracted and darting off to look at whatever had caught their eye. Harry bought Ginny a pointy knitted cap that had three bobbles hanging from it on very long strings. The cap was a swirl of rainbow colours, but it did the trick, warming her up a bit in the frigid outdoor air. Despite the cold weather the Muggles were out in throngs. Ron and Harry shared a cone of hot chestnuts as they wandered the markets, then bought a wide selection of foods for dinner. Pockets empty, but bags full, they got back on the tube and headed for Charring Cross, and from there to the Leaky Cauldron.

"Right, we'll see you for tea," Ron told the twins and Ginny before hustling Harry out into the courtyard and Apparating to Potters Field. Harry dumped his bags of books in the library, propping them against one of the bookshelves and moved to take Ron back in his arms, his chest pressed to Ron's back, his groin rubbing over Ron's arse.

"Now, where were we?" Harry purred into the nearest ear and smiled when Ron moaned.

0oo0oo0

"Good morning Master Wheezy!" Dobby's piping voice spoke up from the kitchen and Ron blinked the sleep out of his eyes, smiling at the house elf who was cooking up a storm in the kitchen while his mother relaxed at the table with a morning cup of tea. By her own choice, Molly was the main cook in the house, though she ensured that her children were proficient in the kitchen and did their share of the rest of the household tasks. She didn't believe in raising children who were unable to keep a house comfortably once they left home. Having Dobby take over the food preparation chores and some of the wedding preparations today would ensure that she had more than enough time to enjoy the actual wedding in two days time. The fact that her son and son-in-law wanted to ease the burden of preparation had made her happy too.

"Good morning, Dobby," Ron wandered into the kitchen and was shooed out by the elf, sitting next to his mum and pouring a cup of his own, "Thanks, Dobby, that looks great. How were your holidays?"

Dobby beamed at him, glancing up the stairs for a moment and then answering Ron's question. The elf was looking for Harry, no doubt. Ron had left his partner in the bathroom, trying to undo the lurid change of colour his hair had undergone rather unexpectedly. When Harry caught up with the twins he was going to hurt them. A lot. Ron was just grateful that he had been second in the shower this morning, and not in there washing Harry's hair for him. He'd not only avoided an alarming colour change himself, he'd also avoided being blamed for Harry's. He hadn't been able to repress a small bark of laughter - earning himself a dirty look - and had left Harry to wash the colour out.

"Dobby was very grateful for his gift, Master Wheezy," the elf drew Ron out of his musings, "Master Wheezy's socks and mittens are very warm."

He and Harry had gone in together on the elf's gift, getting a set of socks, mittens, scarf and cap for the elf, knitted out of Yeti hair. Molly glanced up at the stairs as well, and then turned to raise her eyebrows at Ron. His mother was no fool, and though the elf was happy to see Master Wheezy, it was Master Harry it really wanted thank.

"Harry's still in the bathroom," Ron told his mother, "The twins hit him with one of their little jokes before they went to work this morning. I'm sure he'll be down soon."

He'd no sooner finished his sentence than Harry made his displeasure known to the entire household.

"Ron!" the aggravated roar heralded the stomping footsteps of one very irate Master Harry, "I can't get it to come out!"

Ron stood up, going to meet his frustrated lover at the bottom of the stairs and very carefully not smiling, giggling or in any other way indicating amusement of any sort. Molly stifled a noise and Dobby shrieked in horror. Harry was quite a sight, with his faded jeans, loose jumper, angry red face and…

"Master Harry! You hair is purple!" the elf hopped on one foot in agitation, "You hair is all purple!"

"When I get a hold of those two," Harry growled, "I'll turn them purple! With my fists!"

"Now Harry dear, lets not panic," Molly came forward with her best motherly air, ushering him to a seat and stroking his purple hair soothingly. Ron sat beside him, putting an arm around his upset lover, squeezing gently. It hadn't been purple when he left the bathroom and a small part of Ron was wondering how the twins had managed it.

"It's ok, mate, we'll sort it," Ron crooned in Harry's ear. His miserable partner hid his face in Ron's neck, his glasses on the table as Molly examined his hair carefully, her wand in one hand. Ron was rapidly revising his first opinion of the twins little joke.

"I can't get married with purple hair," Harry moaned and Ron shushed gently, rubbing his palm over Harry's hip. Any amusement he'd felt at first had drained away in the face of Harry's upset. Dobby had returned to the kitchen to make Harry's breakfast, and Ron heard Ginny stomping down the stairs.

"Harry, do you have to shout when I'm trying… bloody hell! What happened to your hair?" she gasped and then laughed, "It's purple!"

"Thanks Ginny, I hadn't noticed," Harry snapped, sitting up and fixing her with a deadly glare. Her laughter trailed off and she tightened the sash on her robe, moving to take a seat at the other end of the table. Ron patted him on the hip and watched his mother try a spell carefully on a patch of hair at the back of Harry's head. It went bright green, which then spread in uneven patches. His mother blanched and shot him a horrified look. Ron thought quickly. If Harry's hair couldn't be fixed back to its proper colour he'd probably call the whole thing off.

"Maybe hair dye?" Ron suggested quietly, "Or maybe we should call the twins and ask for the antidote, or whatever."

Molly whirled and headed for the fireplace, throwing in a pinch of Floo powder. Ron couldn't believe he hadn't done this himself when Harry had first realised his hair had changed colour. Mentally slapping his forehead, he rocked Harry a little, kissing his temple and holding him close.

"George Weasley!" she shouted, and George's head appeared in the fire promptly, making Ron suspect that the twins had been expecting the call. Molly didn't bother saying anything; she just reached in, grabbed George by the ear and pulled. George yelled and scrambled about, emerging on his knees in the kitchen with a hand around his mother's wrist.

"What did you do?" Molly let him go and gestured angrily at Harry's purple and green hair. George gaped at it, and shuffled his feet. Ron had a sinking feeling in his stomach. That was not the face of a successful prankster.

"It was supposed to wash out," he defended himself, "Harry, did you try to wash it out?"

"With what? Water made no dent in it and you'd doctored the shampoo. It went bright blue at first and then this when I tried the soap!" Harry's voice was level and very cold. George gulped.

"It wasn't supposed to change colour from the blue, let alone green and purple!" he explained, and Harry shrieked, jumping up to look myopically in the snickering kitchen mirror.

"When did it go green?" he whirled, wide eyed to stare at Molly with a hurt look on his face, "What happened?"

"I tried a reversal charm," she said softly, "I'm so sorry, dear."

Harry bit his lip and Ron got up, going to hug him close, kissing the multi coloured hair and glaring at his brother. Harry was shaking in his arms, a sure sign that he was seriously upset. That made Ron mad, and he didn't bother to disguise what he was thinking about the twins right now, letting George see the full force of his anger.

"Sort it," Ron said quietly, "Or we'll have to delay the wedding for your funeral."

"Uh, right," George gulped when he realised that everyone in the kitchen was glaring at him angrily, "I'll have to talk to Fred. I'll get back to you."

"Soon," his mother drummed her fingers on her wand, and George nodded vehemently, Disapparating suddenly. Harry sighed and peeled himself away from Ron. He accepted the plate of hot food from Dobby and sat down, his shoulders slumped in defeat.

"Don't worry, mate. If the worst comes to the worst we can try dying it black again, right mum?" Ron looked to his mother for support. She nodded and hugged Harry gently. He sighed again and hugged her back. Ron was relieved that he didn't hold a grudge against her failed attempts to help.

In a few years time they'd probably look back at this and laugh. Until then Ron would have to hope that Harry wouldn't cancel the wedding and go hide out in Potters Field until whatever this was wore off.

0oo0oo0

Harry sighed as he looked out at the newly marquee-filled back garden. Dobby was still out there, fussing with the last bits of garland and checking that everything was ready. The garden looked a little cramped with the two marquees in place, but Ron had a lot of family, and Neville was bringing his grandmother, and Hermione was bringing her parents. It was nice of the Grangers to come, especially as most Muggles frowned on gay relationships. The teachers that they had invited would be dropping in early tomorrow, and Professor McGonagall had threatened to test them on their knowledge of the upcoming ceremony. Tomorrow they'd cast the charm that would form a dome over the garden and keep it warm for their guests during and after the ceremony. Professor Flitwick had found that particular spell for them, as a sort of wedding gift.

"That's a big sigh," Ron's arms snuck around Harry's waist and a familiar body pressed itself to his back, spooning close to share warmth. Harry leaned into the weight and turned his head to press his temple to Ron's.

"Just… I keep waiting for someone to tell me that it's time to wake up. That the past two years were all a dream and I don't… don't get to keep you," Harry explained softly, and Ron hummed wordlessly, a comforting sound Harry didn't usually hear out of bed. He shivered and reached up to touch his hair.

"Is it still black?" he felt Ron stifle a snicker and put his hand back over his partners, "Ok, ok, so I'm paranoid."

"Just because you're paranoid doesn't mean they're not out to get you," Ron murmured, "And yes, it's still black. Mum says that the dye will last until the potion the twins used wears off."

Fred and George hadn't counted on the ingredients of the shampoo reacting with the ingredients of their potion when mixed with extra water. Harry's hair had resisted all antidotes and removal spells, going through some truly spectacular colour patterns and combinations, until Molly had given up and helped him to just dye it black. The twins hadn't returned home since that little episode, evidently counting on the fact that Molly would be too happy on the day of the wedding to kill them.

"Am I vain?" Harry wondered, "I mean, the whole hair thing has me dashing to the mirror every three minutes to check that I still look like me…"

"You are the least vain person I know," Ron's assurance warmed Harry for a moment, then he wriggled around so they could hold each other properly. He hid his face and took a deep lungful of Ron's warm scent, letting it soothe him.

"I know I'm not the worlds most handsome man," he mumbled to Ron's shoulder, "But you shouldn't have to marry someone who looks worse of a freak than usual."

"Worse?" Ron stiffened in Harry's arms and not in a good way. Harry protested wordlessly when Ron pulled away, his hands framing Harry's face. His partner stared him in the eye, seeming to search for something that Harry couldn't even begin to name. Whatever he was looking for made him growl and shake his head when he failed to find it.

"Mum!" Ron's raised voice carried easily to the front room where Molly and Ginny were playing cards; "Harry and I are going to Potters Field for a few hours."

"What?" Harry whispered, and Ron gave him a look that clearly said 'shut up and get going'. Ron took his hands away and Apparated before his mother could protest. Harry sighed and followed his partner obediently, Disapparating in the front hall. He could hear someone rummaging in the laundry, Ron's movements a little muffled by the slight distance. Before he could get to the top of the stairs there was a shout of triumph and Ron appeared with their sleeping bags and mattresses.

"Come on," Ron ordered, jogging up the stairs to the room that was going to be theirs. Harry watched his partner roll out the mattresses and bags, and then folded his arms when Ron reached for him. Ron tsked under his breath and removed Harry's glasses instead. It was cool in the house, and Harry had no intention of getting naked without some idea of what Ron wanted, apart from sex, obviously.

"Harry," Ron tapped his folded arms, "Come on, this is important."

"Sex is important?" Harry unfolded his arms reluctantly. Ron shook his head and stepped back.

"That reminds me, I'll be right back. Get undressed and get into the bags. I've got a heating charm on them, so don't let it go to waste," Ron Apparated and Harry blinked in surprise. How did talking about his hair lead to sex? He shrugged, a little turned on by the masterful Ron. He folded his robes neatly and slid into the warm bags, snuggling down into them so that his head was completely covered. He had his wand in one hand, just in case, indulging in his paranoia for a moment. He knew that he worried over things that Ron took for granted, but when he wasn't worrying, Ron was. They balanced each other so well in that way that Harry felt secure about their future.

The sniggers that followed the sound of someone Disapparating reassured him that it was indeed Ron and not a Death Eater come to take their revenge. There was a lot of rustling sounds outside, and Harry felt himself harden a little in response to the mental picture of Ron getting undressed for him. His mind played back a dozen snapshots of Ron's lightly muscled yet trim body, pale skin with its light dusting of freckles and the wiry ginger hairs that dusted his partners body. Ron slid in next to him and pulled the bag over their heads again, lighting the tip of his and Harry's wand. Their jar was clutched in his hand, and he tucked it away for a moment, reaching to pull Harry back into his arms. Harry went willingly, and snuggled into his favourite position.

"Now, where were we?" Ron murmured, his hands stealing up to frame Harry's face, "Oh yes, you were spouting guff about not being handsome."

Harry spluttered incoherently and Ron shut him up with a kiss. Harry wriggled and tried to protest, but that was hard to do with Ron's tongue down his throat and his fingers rubbing Harry's scalp lightly. Harry moaned eagerly, then tried to pull away, confused and turned on at the same time. Ron let him break the kiss, but moved to lay a single finger over his lips.

"I know, I know," Ron whispered, "You think that the scar is so ugly that no one would ever be able to see beyond it. Even me, Harry, I know that I asked you about it the first time we met. But after a few days I didn't see it at all unless it was hurting you. The hair is dead sexy, even if it is untameable, and I know that you hate that. I love it though, because I can play with it, rub it when we kiss, hide in it at night. You're skinny, but you've got muscles from Quidditch training and all the physical work you do at school. Your body isn't as hairy as mine, but that's ok, and I love the little path from your belly to your prick. Mostly though, you're so appealing because you don't act like it. You're not vain or pretentious like some of the guys we know."

"Ron," Harry shook his head, and Ron simply grinned at him. Harry's mind was whirling. If that was what Ron saw when he looked at him, then it wasn't so bad. Harry never thought that Ron might love the way he looked just as much as he loved the way Harry thought. He was slowly coming to believe that Ron's love was unconditional, and perhaps even eternal.

"Let me show you," Ron whispered and took Harry's mouth again. Warm suction and tender licks soon had Harry sighing in delight. Ron's talented mouth and hands were roaming all over him, making him moan and whimper in pleasure. He opened to his lover easily and Ron glided smoothly inside, sensation sparking through them both, their hands and voices joined as they spoke their ecstasy.

0oo0oo0

Ron grinned across the marquee at his husband, their wedding band heavy on his ring finger. His mother had outdone herself; Harry's robes were stunning. Like Ron he wore a matching mixture of blue, but in reverse. His outer robe was dark blue, the inner robe pale, and shot through with gold threads. Harry was talking to Mr and Mrs Granger, perched comfortably on a chair beside them, his ring glittering in the light. All the married Weasley's and their partners wore their wedding robes as per the family tradition, and the rings that they wore on their fingers seemed to really stand out to the newly weds eyes.

Looking down at his own ring, Ron couldn't help a sigh of sheer joy. The white and yellow gold strands wove in and out seamlessly, his and Harry's name combined in a script that they had designed. Through the band, Ron could feel a faintly warm pulse, reflecting Harry's, a part of the protection and locator charms laid upon the ring. He looked up as Hermione came to stand beside him, watching Harry and her parents for a moment before turning to pick up Ron's hand and examining the ring.

"It's beautiful," she murmured, and Ron smiled at her, too happy to care about the sappy feelings shining in her eyes. Girls always got emotional at weddings, Ginny and his mother had both spent the ceremony sniffling, and Hermione had only tucked away her hanky when Arthur had presented his son and son-in-law to the assembled crowd.

"We'll make yours when you marry," he promised impulsively and Hermione promptly hugged him hard enough to make him squeak. He hugged her back and patted her shoulder awkwardly, looking for something to change the subject. His eyes wandered over to Harry and he smiled in relief. Mr and Mrs Granger were both wearing Muggle made formal clothes - Mr Granger in a dark suit and Mrs Granger in a nice frock. Over these they wore dark green Wizard robes, cut simply and obviously chosen to compliment the colours they were already wearing. Hermione was in her dress robes, and looked as stunning as ever.

"I like your parents robes, Hermione," he complimented her, and she drew back, glancing over at them, "They look really smart."

"Mum said that if they were going to be attending a Wizard function they should look the part," she shrugged a little and smiled when Harry made her father laugh. Neville's grandmother had joined them and was talking easily with her mother. Everyone knew that they were Muggles, and so far everyone had been very careful to include her parents in the conversation and celebrations. Ron was oddly proud of his family's good manners.

"Whose idea was it to just get the outer robes? Their Muggle clothes work well with them," Ron wasn't into clothing at all, and rarely thought about what he wore, but it was keeping the rampaging sentiment at bay, so he'd muddle through.

"That was mine," Hermione admitted, "I didn't want them to be uncomfortable, and besides I knew that you and Harry wouldn't mind if they came in normal stuff."

"You saying I'm dressed abnormally?" Ron growled lightly and snagged a drink from a floating tray as it passed. A quick sniff proved it was just water and he sipped it gratefully. He had no intention of getting smashed at his reception - apart from the hangover and the possibly embarrassing morning after, he had no wish to set his mother on her wrong side. He'd have a drink with the feast, and the rest would be moderation. Before Hermione could do more than roll her eyes at him and shake her head, Neville struggled over to them, moving like someone had partially hit him with the leg-locker curse.

"Hey, Neville," Ron greeted his Housemate with a smile, "I see you've met my cousin Minerva."

Cousin Minerva was hanging onto Neville's robes and giggling madly, her bright green hair matching her robes. She was only five, but already had shown a talent as a metamorphmagus. She was related distantly to Nymphadora Tonks, though, the Auror with the same talent who had come to get Harry from the Dursley's in his fifth year, so it wasn't too much of a surprise. Minerva giggled up at Ron, then let go of Neville, raising her arms imploringly.

"Up, Ronny!" she begged and Ron picked her up obligingly, perching her awkwardly on a hip and grimacing as she giggled in his ear. It was better to pick her up when she asked then have her turn from giggles to whines and later squeals.

"Nice party," Neville glanced around, spotting his Gran and smiling at Harry. The dark haired boy smiled back and waved, turning to answer a question from Mrs Longbottom and Mrs Granger.

"Thanks," Ron replied, "Look, we've been meaning to ask you both a favour. We want to get that garden you planned for us planted at Easter, Nev, and Harry and I were hoping you and Hermy would spend the hols with us. You're the expert after all, and Ginny will probably come along too, Hermy, so you won't be the only girl."

"Me too?" Minerva piped up and Ron hitched her up a bit, trying not to drop her. She grabbed a hold of the collar of his robes and almost choked him. He wasn't that adept at carrying children, especially one as wriggly as Minerva. Hermione was smirking at him and he crossed his eyes at her.

"We'll see," he promised and gagged as she wriggled vehemently. He put her down and watched her run off to find her parents. He glanced around to check that Harry was out of earshot, and grinned wickedly. What was the point of being married if you couldn't share a little gossip about your spouse? Besides, Neville and Hermione were safe. They'd laugh, and maybe make a small teasing comment to Harry and that would be the end of it.

"You know, Harry's hair is that very same colour," he confided, "The twins stuffed up a trick potion and by the time we ran out of ideas he was bright green. Mum had to help him dye it black for today."

"And they're still alive?" Neville sounded incredulous, while Hermione sniggered helplessly, "Although I did think they were a bit quieter than usual."

"Yeah, they're still alive. Harry is even speaking to them. Mum's not too happy though," Ron confided, "She's got them on clean-up duty."

"Did I see Dobby around here?" Hermione changed the subject, thinking that Harry wouldn't be too impressed that his misfortunes were being spread around the guests. Ron nodded. The elf had been up since the crack of dawn, making sure that everything that could possibly be done had been.

"He's a guest," he confirmed, "Not that you'd know it. He's everywhere at once, trying to make sure it's just right for his Master Harry."

"Have you tried to dissuade him at all?" Hermione fixed him with what he privately called her McGonagall look, and Ron sighed. He didn't want to get into an argument about elf rights at his wedding, but if that was what she wanted…

"Hermione, he said it was his gift to us. How could we turn him down?" Ron shook his head, "You have to accept that on the whole, most House Elves are happy where they are."

"Dobby was happy with the Malfoy's?" Hermione snapped, and Ron jumped when Harry's voice spoke over his shoulder. He hadn't heard the sneaky bastard come up behind him, and made a mental note to say something at a later date. Or maybe he'd just punish Harry with some wicked shagging. It was a tough job, and Ron was more than up for it.

"No, he wasn't, that's why I freed him. He is happy serving Professor Dumbledore, though. To free him from that would be cruel."

Hermione pursed her lips and said nothing. Ron was grateful for her restraint, and turned to peck Harry on the lips. Harry put a hand lightly on Ron's arm and smiled at him, the happiness he felt radiating from his eyes. He was truly breathtaking, and Ron felt himself stir at the sight.

"The romance is gone already," Neville spluttered with laughter, and Ron cast a dirty look over his shoulder before taking Harry into his arms properly and taking his partner's mouth in a soul deep kiss. Harry pressed against him eagerly, returning the kiss and then some, breaking away only when the cheers and whistles made it through the sensual haze they were creating.

0oo0oo0

"I thought they'd never go," Harry panted, his back pressed against the large oak at the bottom of the garden, Ron pressed against his front. The redhead was currently seeking entry into his robes, and Harry was helping as enthusiastically as he knew how. The bite of the cold air around them was a sharp contrast to the heat they were generating, and Harry's fingers were nimbly sending naughty messages along any part of Ron he could reach. They needed to be quiet if they didn't want to draw attention to themselves, and Harry knew that would be a challenge. Neither of them was silent during sex.

"Shut up and help me get this undone," Ron growled, "I want inside you in the worst way."

Harry felt his heavy prick leap at those words and moaned helplessly, undoing his outer robe and letting it drop to the snow. He turned and braced his hands against the tree, letting Ron pull his robes up, hissing as the cold air bit at his heated flesh. He felt his briefs being tugged down and cool slick fingers probed his arse, sending sparks of pure sensation straight to his aching prick. They were family now, no one could take that away from them.

"Do it," he gasped, "Ron, now!"

Ron's heated body blanketed him, and Harry locked his arms, pushing back against the snub object he could feel between his arse cheeks. Slick heated pressure, a long stretch, and Ron was in, both of them moaning in satisfaction. Ron's fingers flexed against Harry's hips, sending tender words of love and promises of forever along his skin, while he panted heavily in Harry's ear, pressing closer and closer until the world narrowed down to the sensations rolling through his belly.

Harry keened and wriggled against the pressure, trying to get Ron to move. Ron grunted and his hips jerked, the sensation overwhelming, the need to move overpowering everything else. They panted and strained, matching each other flawlessly, lost in pleasure and the sheer act of mating. Harry's prick was trapped in a fold of his robes, their movement stimulating him relentlessly. He could feel the final pangs of his orgasm approaching and sped his movements eagerly. Ron groaned achingly, adjusting his grip so he could move faster and deeper than before.

"Ron!" Harry cried his spouse's name softly, his prick jerking and gushing its load all over the inside of his robes. He felt his partner shudder hard along his back and locked his knees as Ron's release filled him to the brim three times over. Warmth spread throughout his belly and Harry panted desperately, almost coming again, though he was empty and wrung out.

Ron's weight was pressing him into the tree, and Harry was grateful for its support. His partner was a warm and comforting presence along his back as they struggled to regain control of their breathing and their limbs. When he could breathe almost normally, Harry stirred, sighing as Ron's prick left him.

"We need to clean up," he said reluctantly, "Your mother will kill us if we hand her our robes like this."

Ron chuckled and Harry leaned into their bond, feeling the sweat and stickiness disappear from his skin, and the wet stains from his robe. They adjusted their clothing so they were once more decently dressed, and Harry put his outer robes back on. Ron hit them with a cleansing spell too, and then dried them with a quick blast of hot air.

The house was still dark as they walked back up to the kitchen door. Harry couldn't say why they hadn't chosen to consummate the marriage in Ron's old room, he just knew that they had both been drawn outside to the tree where Arthur Weasley had joined their lives forever in front of friends and family. Harry paused as they entered the kitchen and kissed Ron lightly on the lips.

"Let's grab some supplies and stick a do not disturb sign on the door," he suggested, "I'm not done with you, and we go back to school in a few days time."

"Good plan," Ron grinned, "Lead on."

0oo0oo0


	15. Term 1, 7th year

****

Further warnings: some sport, some fighting, some unexpected news…(some really bad summary writing…)

****

Sympathetic Magic: Part Eight - Seventh Year - Term Two

"Have you seen my copy of 'Truth in the Tarot'?" Ron asked, squatting in front of their bookcase. Harry's hand came to rest on his shoulder, the other pointing to the book Ron was looking for. Their room had been a welcome haven from the rest of the school these last weeks, as they celebrated their union away from prying eyes. Ron had been interested to hear about the Muggle custom of a honeymoon, and was hoping to take Harry for one in the summer holidays.

"It's right in front of you, dear," Harry murmured and Ron choked, almost losing his balance and pulling out the book for their Divination class this morning.

"Ta, ducks," he replied as he straightened and tucked the book in the bag. Harry's eyes were sparkling with amusement as he opened the window and propped their brooms on the sill. He shivered at the cool air that blasted in, and pulled his robes closer around him.

They had charmed their rings - using the same I-am-not-here charm that they had on the tent - allowing them to wear their bands to school. The first day back no one had noticed at all, except Neville, Hermione and Ginny, who already knew they were there. School life had gone on for them without any noticeable difference; except for the new pet names they had taken to using in private or with their wedding guests. Neville found it particularly funny and had a hard time keeping a straight face when they started up their 'old married couple' routine.

"Come on luv, we'll be late," Ron whispered in his ear and Harry chuckled. He had rarely felt so content. He had Ron and a future together, one that hadn't been prophesised to end in murder and destruction. He was certain of it deep in his heart. If this was the gift of Divination kicking in, Harry didn't want to question it too closely.

"Coming pet," Harry replied, unsealing the door. Today the International Quidditch teams would be arriving, around about dinnertime. As a result the rest of the students - not to mention Ron and Harry - were very excited. Professor Dumbledore was going to let them out early from the lessons just before dinner to let the school welcome them. As Head Girl, Hermione would be showing one team up to the Gryffindor tower. The Fat Lady had been returned to her post, and the room where Dudley had stayed had been removed.

"Harry! Ron! You ready?" Neville called from his place beside the entrance, and Harry grinned, waving good morning. Neville was as excited as anybody, though his skills on a broom were negligible.

"Ready, Nev," Harry agreed, "Calm down."

"But Harry, there's two International Quidditch teams coming here! This is even better than the Tri-Wizard Cup!" Neville grinned, then blanched, remembering just who had competed in the Cup and what had happened to him. Harry laughed, patting Neville's arm as they walked down the corridor to the stairs.

"Its ok, Nev, I understand. And you're right, because there is no way I can get caught up in the middle of it," Harry winked at Ron who made noises like 'better bloody well not either'. Harry shook his head as they headed down the stairs. They had a flying lesson this morning, and he was planning to take the first years for a bit of an obstacle course around the castle in order to develop their agility skills. Their second Monday tutoring session with the Headmaster was scheduled to take place in the school grounds after their final lesson for the afternoon. The first lessons had been very difficult, as Dumbledore tested their ability to shield against powerful spells. They had always known the Headmaster was a powerful Wizard, but the strength of his attacks had left them breathless and drained.

"Harry!" Beth squealed, and slid down the banister to catch them up, "Isn't this exciting!"

"Very!" Harry laughed as he caught her, "You want to be careful though, Beth. If Filch saw that you'd have a detention quicker than you can say Lemon Drops."

"Aw, Harry," Beth shook her head, hugging him and letting go, "He'd have to catch me first."

Harry bit back a laugh and let Ron take over, lecturing her on courtesy and school rules so gently that he doubted it would make a big difference to her behaviour in the future. Neville distracted him with a question about the teams that were coming - by now the school knew that he and Ron were honorary teachers, and most figured they had an inside track to the staff gossip.

The Great Hall was buzzing with chat, and even the teachers looked excited by the days coming attractions. Harry slid into a seat beside Justin Finch-Fletchley and paid the owl that was waiting with their morning paper. Malfoy slid into the seat opposite him and scowled at them all on general principal. Harry could ignore that easily enough now; he had Ron's fingers wrapped around his and Justin's excited talk to listen to instead.

0oo0oo0

"Today we're going to work on safely using agility and speed. I realise that with the guests we're expecting that you're all eager to shoot off like Quidditch players, but I'll remind you that we're not here to try out for the England team. We're here to learn the skills that will be useful should you ever have to react to an emergency," Harry eyed the boy from Ravenclaw who was fidgeting eagerly, obviously hell bent on getting into the air and showing off his skills as a broom flyer. Roger Whitfield had been boasting about his abilities from day one, and Harry had been forced to ground the boy in several lessons when he insisted on ignoring instructions.

"As you can see I've set up a series of floating blue buoys, marking the course I want you to take around the school. There are also several other buoys in varying colours. Some of these will shoot dye or other substances at you, others will move into your path and some will do nothing at all. And before you start guessing which colour does which, I've mixed them up. One colour does not stand for one particular type of action," Harry glanced at the Slytherin students who looked a bit disappointed. It was their way to try and exploit patterns like that to their advantage, a part of the natural talent for planning that Slytherin House valued. He bit down on a grin and held out the bag with the numbered discs he'd borrowed from the staff room.

"You'll go in the order that your number comes up," he continued and watched as they spent a few minutes pulling out their discs and matching them against their friends. Roger was trying to convince people to swap, to let him go first. Harry put a stop to that by pulling out the lowest number and handing it to the boy with a frown. Roger tossed his red hair at Harry angrily and moved to stand at the back of the class, sulking.

Harry pulled out his wand and aimed it at the first buoy. He murmured the spell that would deactivate it and told everyone to mount their brooms. He led them along the course once so they'd know where to go, and then had them line up on the ground.

"I'll be above you so I can watch the course and you while you wait. Number one," Harry gestured to the girl from Slytherin and mounted his broom, kicking off smoothly and soaring to his vantage point. He had a stopwatch and clipboard to record people's times, and started the watch as she passed the first buoy.

Things progressed well enough. The students waiting were fairly quiet, and cheered their friends on, keeping time on their own watches. Roger was standing back from them all, keeping time and watching them carefully. Several of the buoys acted like limited bludgers, designed to chase you without coming into contact. Harry didn't want anyone actually knocked off their brooms. He would assign a score for each student depending on their ability to avoid getting spattered or bumped, and how quickly they managed the course.

He watched his most nervous flyer - from his own House, sadly - as the boy swerved cautiously from side to side. His was the slowest time, but he also managed to avoid getting splattered with dye completely, and the proud grin he shot his teacher as he went past had Harry grinning back in sympathy. The kid reminded him so much of Neville at that age that it wasn't hard for Harry to put up with the nerves and mistakes, encouraging him gently.

Roger Whitfield was next, and had taken off before the second last student was on the ground. Harry tightened his grip on his wand and watched closely as Roger sent his broom careening carelessly through the first part of the course. He growled in frustration as the student actually bounced off one of the immovable buoys and failed to avoid any of the dye buoys at all. He tightened his grip on his broom when Roger bounced off one of the moving buoys and shot forward when the collision sent the boy into a spin, heading directly for the spire on the north tower.

"Impedimenta!" Harry yelled, but the spell didn't do much to slow the boys out of control movement at all, "Immobilous!"

Roger heard that one being shouted and ducked the spell deliberately, his broom wobbling dangerously. Harry was close to him now and simply reached over, grabbed Roger's robes by the neck and yanked hard, his bond with Ron humming. The Ravenclaw lost his grip and Harry hauled him onto the Firebolt, snarling with effort and pulling up on the handle to get the broom to ascend enough to clear the tower.

"What…!" Roger squeaked as his broom spiralled slowly to the ground below. Harry growled again in his ear and the slender boy fell silent as the badly unbalanced broom sank down to the lawn beside the front steps.

"You're to take yourself to Professor Flitwick's classroom and wait for me there," Harry ordered curtly, "I've been patient, I've tried taking points, I've given you a detention. If you're going to continue to endanger my life and yours then we'll have to try something else."

Roger gulped at the cold fury in his teachers voice and Harry watched him go inside. He took a deep breath, and straightened his robes. He headed back towards the rest of the first years, hoping that the clipboard had hit no one when it fell. Ron and the second years were standing with his class when he returned to them, and Ron looked at him in concern. Harry knew that his temper was still showing on his face, and made an effort to smile for his students.

"Put your broom back in the shed neatly, please," he requested, "Then you may return to the castle for your next lesson. Has anyone seen Mr Whitfield's broom?"

"I have it," the nervous Gryffindor held it up and Harry smiled in thanks. He sent the spell that would put the buoys back in their containers into the sky and waited while Ron finished speaking to his own class. He gave his broom to Ron, and trudged back into the castle to deal with Roger and his stubborn attitude.

0oo0oo0

"Hey, where's Harry?" Hermione asked as she joined Ron on the front steps. He sighed and turned to look at her, their breath steaming in the cold air.

"He's inside. One of his students tried to impale himself on the North tower, just before Divination. I think Harry's still sorting it all out."

"He was wicked, he grabbed Roger right off his broom!" Beth piped up, from where she was standing, and Ron raised his eyebrows at her. She blushed and scuffed her shoe on the cold stone, unable to meet the censure in his eyes.

"Which I promise not to try and do ever," she added reluctantly and Ron nodded curtly. The last thing they needed was for the second years to go around trying to pull each other off their brooms. Harry had only managed by leaning into the bond to partially levitate Roger. As the second years didn't have that option available to them it would be better that they didn't try at all.

"Oh dear," Hermione sighed. Ron shrugged. It was so important to Harry that he be a good teacher and give his students the best education he could, that this little stunt would have him brooding. Before they could continue the conversation Neville and Seamus arrived. They were talking about the two teams that the school was going to host, and wondering how they'd get here.

"Australia's a long way off, maybe they'll Apparate or something!" Neville was saying quietly. Hermione shook her head and looked at the once fat teen. Ron reflected that Neville had grown into a quietly confident young man. If he hadn't been madly in love with Harry, Ron might have tried it on with Neville.

"It's too far to Apparate," she chastised, recalling Ron's wandering thoughts, "You know that, Neville. They'll probably have something like the Beaubaxton's or the Durmstrang's."

"Or they'll walk up from Hogsmeade," Harry said in an amused tone from behind them. Ron glanced up at his partner and then followed the pointing finger. Sure enough a group of men and women in green and gold robes were walking steadily up the path from Hogsmeade with their gear floating along behind them. The students cheered and waved in welcome, getting smiles and waves in response. The Head Boy from Hufflepuff was already standing beside the Headmaster, waiting to show them up to the Gryffindor tower.

"When did you get here?" Ron asked quietly as Harry's hand pressed into the small of his back.

"A few seconds ago," Harry sighed, "Professor Flitwick has given him two weeks of detention and is sending a letter to his parents. Apparently I'm not the only one he doesn't listen to. He's even mucked Snape about."

"Bloody hell," Ron sounded impressed. They'd opposed Snape a few times themselves, and it had always been nerve wracking. Professor Dumbledore stepped forward to say hello to Madam Hooch, who was leading the Australians. The Head Boy, William Blake of Hufflepuff, stepped forward to walk the team up to Gryffindor Tower. The tanned and mainly tall Witches and Wizards smiled at the students as they walked past, waving when someone shouted hello or waved to them.

"How'd they get here?" Seamus whispered to Harry, who grinned. Most Wizards forgot that there were non-magical ways to travel. From the tingle of the equipment as it passed, the Australians had laid some concealment charms on their gear to avoid attracting the attention of Muggles.

"Probably on a plane," he shrugged, "And then Apparated to Hogsmeade. That would be the easiest way. Muggle transport can be useful at times."

"That's not much fun!" Seamus mock complained and then circulated the idea to the people around them. Harry laughed and Ron shook his head. He was married to a Muggle raised Wizard, which meant that he'd be experiencing a lot of Muggle culture and methods as he coaxed Harry to show him the world beyond Wizardry. It was important to Ron that his spouse felt that his world and experiences were valued. It was one of many ways that Ron could show Harry he was loveable.

"Do you think Fiji came the same way?" Hermione asked quietly and Ron shrugged, looking back at Harry for his opinion. Harry nodded down the path again, and Ron turned to watch the Fiji team hurry along, their breath also steaming in the cold air as the students cheered in welcome. Ron felt a bit sorry for them - they'd come from hot summer to freezing winter, and the shock to the system would not have been pleasant. Hermione slipped through the students to be ready to take the team to the tower they'd be living in. Professor Dumbledore and Madame Hooch and arranged for the teams to have a separate dining room, and another suite of large rooms that would let them practice some skills indoors, as they would have to share the Quidditch pitch for training.

"Well," Harry sighed, "I guess we'd better get indoors."

Ron followed him up the main steps, biting his lip. Harry was brooding already, just as he'd feared. On impulse he grabbed Harry's robes while the rest of the school filed into the Great Hall for dinner, and tugged his partner discreetly along the corridor towards the kitchen. Harry was silent, moving where directed, obviously thinking that Ron had a bracing chat in mind and obviously determined to weather it with patience.

Ron pulled his partner into a handy cupboard, sealed the door and dropped to his knees before Harry could do more than draw a breath to reassure him. That breath was exhaled in a disbelieving whoosh as Ron's fingers surely undid Harry's trousers and fished around in bright yellow briefs for their prize.

"Ron," Harry hissed in a disbelieving tone and Ron took in an intimate mouthful, sucking luxuriously on Harry's rapidly hardening prick and thoroughly enjoying the taste. Harry had gotten a bit sweaty during this morning's activities and the taste added a spice to the skin that Ron was swallowing and releasing in urgent hypnotic rhythm. Harry's fingers found their way into his hair, massaging the scalp tenderly, speaking love and lust as Harry's hips moved hesitantly in Ron's rhythm, his panting breaths exploding from him.

Ron encouraged the movement with one hand, and sent the other searching for Harry's hole, intending to finish his partner off quickly. His own cock was very interested in the proceedings, but it was trapped in his trousers and the denied relief was exquisite. Harry was moving more surely now, muffling his cries of pleasure behind one hand. Ron felt the flesh he was sucking on swell and swallowed it down greedily, humming in approval as Harry gifted him with his release.

He released the softening flesh reluctantly, letting Harry slide down to kneel in front of him, spent and gasping, sweat standing proud on his brow. Ron leaned in to kiss the gasping mouth; freeing himself with an eager whimper and fisting his prick urgently as Harry's tongue licked his mouth clean from the tonsils on out. He moaned his release into that wicked mouth and shifted so they were leaning together, gasping and trembling.

"Bugger me," Harry's voice was awed and immensely satisfied. Any trace of brooding or worry was gone from the green eyes that Ron could just see in the dim cupboard. He smiled in satisfaction and nuzzled his partner before pulling back reluctantly and getting his wand out for the cleanup.

"Tonight," Ron promised, eliciting a laugh and a kiss from his spouse.

0oo0oo0

How Harry concentrated through the rest of the afternoon lessons was beyond him. He felt like he had a sign above his head that screamed 'I had sex!' to anyone who looked. They'd nipped down to the kitchen for sandwiches rather than appear in the Great Hall after their cupboard escapades, and Dobby had been ecstatic to see them, providing enough sandwiches for four of them.

Tea was spent eating quickly and listening to the gossip circulating the Great Hall about the practice sessions that their guest teams were scheduled for, and how many people were planning to go and watch them. The first Cup match was scheduled for the following weekend, and Harry hoped that he and Ron would have time to see a practice from each team. The match would be held at Hogwarts and was between Fiji and Ireland. There would be no mascots at the match - that would be saved for the final game - and the whole school had been given permission to attend.

The Headmaster was not at the staff table, and that was also a source of gossip. It was rare for Dumbledore to miss the evening meal - he liked to cast an eye over the students and make his presence known. Beth looked a little worried about it until Harry leaned over and whispered that the Headmaster had a meeting. She took the statement at face value, probably because she felt that he knew about it because he was 'almost a teacher'.

He and Ron lingered in the Hall over their desert, determined to outwait the majority of students. Malfoy - who hadn't been able to sit with them because Ron had evidently put the word out and surrounded them with a group of first and second years, peppering them with questions about Quidditch and the teams that had arrived at dinner - came to sit with them, asking some seemingly not so innocent questions of his own that had Ron bristling silently and telling Harry's thigh exactly what he thought of the blonde Prefect. Malfoy seemed to think that something significant had occurred over Christmas to a few members of the staff and wanted to find out what. Harry answered with steady variations of 'we don't know, we weren't here', wondering all the while if Malfoy had gotten wind of his and Ron's wedding from somewhere. Flitwick, McGonagall, Dumbledore and Sprout had all been invited, and Hagrid and Remus came as a matter of course.

They managed to get rid of him when Snape called Malfoy away in a lucky bit of timing, allowing them to slip out into the foyer and collect their winter cloaks from a beaming Dobby. Harry did up the fastenings as they hastened towards Hagrid's hut, spotting the slender form of the Headmaster straight away. Frost and snow crunched underfoot as they moved to meet their Defence tutor, shivering in the crisp, bright air.

"Good evening, boys," Dumbledore's hat was woollen, multicoloured and very bright. Harry smiled at the sight of it and Ron returned the greeting for them both. Hagrid joined them with his crossbow, and Fang slouched around the half-giant to say hello to them both.

"Are we going into the forest?" Harry was surprised, and knew that his tone was less than respectful, but after the centaurs had effectively forbidden the Wizards and Witches around them from entering the forest, he and Ron had both noticed that Hagrid's excursions into the forest had almost stopped altogether. If Hagrid was limiting his visits to the forest, then the rest of them needed to take especial care.

"We are," Dumbledore nodded, "I have managed to negotiate a truce with the centaurs, though they will not tolerate casual excursions into the forest. Hagrid's care of the injured magical creatures in the forest continues, and we have set aside a small clearing for the training of your defensive skills."

Harry nodded, and didn't ask why Hagrid was coming along. The grounds keeper would doubtless reveal his role in their training at some point. Hagrid was not known for his ability to keep a secret from Harry when the Gryffindor boy really wanted to know what was going on. Once shielded from the school by the trees he and Ron openly linked their hands together, exchanging ideas and speculation as they walked. The clearing that the Headmaster had chosen was of medium size and surrounded by tall trees.

"Now," Dumbledore lit the torches around the edge of the clearing, and Hagrid paced through it to disappear into the gloom, "This evening we are going to work on your ability to deflect harmful spells. Your shielding spells are very powerful, but every impact drains your resources. It would be better to deflect the attacks before they strike your shield."

Harry understood immediately why they were out here. Inside the castle there was always the risk that they would deflect the spell too hard and damage the structure around them. Not to mention the fact that this would likely be a very noisy endeavour. The forest offered them space and privacy. Hagrid would watch their backs while they trained, and Dumbledore would be able to concentrate on instructing them in the best use of their bond.

"Ready when you are, sir," Ron spoke up, and Harry smiled at his spouse, nodding to their Headmaster in agreement.

0oo0oo0

"So, who will you take to the Valentines Ball this year?" Lavender Brown sidled up to Ron. The Ball wasn't until next month, but evidently the girls in Gryffindor were already eyeing off the potential dates. Ron knew for a fact that Lavender had been dating Justin Finch-Fletchley since the beginning of their seventh year, and wondered why she was so interested in who he was planning to take.

"Susan Bones," he didn't bother looking up from his book, turning a page and scratching a few lines on his parchment. The library was full of whispering groups of students, and Madam Pince was floating around re-shelving books, so Ron wasn't too worried that Lavender was going to create a big scene.

"I think Harry is taking Hannah Abbott," he added, closing the book and pulling a new one over. Snape's potions homework was a killer at the moment - a five-foot long essay on the use of living components in potions was not Ron's idea of a good time. Harry had been and gone from the library already, his prep time cut short by a summons to conference with Roger Whitfield's parents, along with Sprout, McGonagall, Snape, Flitwick and Dumbledore. Ron was hoping desperately that his spouse wouldn't be too upset when the meeting was over.

"You took them last time, didn't you?" Lavender asked slyly, and Ron sighed, looking up at her with irritation. Surely she hadn't finished the homework from Snape already? He saw Hermione approaching and made their signal for 'help!' with his quill. She altered her course from the shelves to his table and Ron breathed a silent sigh of relief.

"Yes," he knew his answer was this side of being rude, but couldn't contain his irritation for much longer. He hated that even though he and Harry were married, they were still targets of speculation and unwelcome offers of companionship. Surely after two years of steadily turning down every girl who wanted to date them, the female population of Hogwarts had figured out that they were gay?

"Have you started the potions essay, Ron?" Hermione took a seat opposite and got out her books. Ron nodded and shoved some of his books over at her, letting her get a look at the titles that he'd pulled off the shelves to save her searching for other copies.

"It's not easy," he grumbled. Lavender looked from one to the other for a moment and then frowned. She crossed her arms and glared at Hermione.

"Who are you going to the Valentines Ball with, Hermione?" she asked sweetly, and Hermione rolled her eyes. Unlike Ron, Hermione wasn't constrained by the rules of polite treatment to women. He noticed Lavender bristling even before Hermione opened her mouth to reply, and braced himself for the coming fallout.

"None of your business," Hermione replied, "Shouldn't you be concentrating on your homework?"

Ron put his head down and pretended to be engrossed in the uses of leaping toadstools in sleeping draughts. Lavender and Hermione exchanged a few heated comments and then Lavender stomped off in a huff. He looked up at his friend and she sniffed at him in disdain.

"Coward," she told him with a little smile playing around her lips. Ron grinned and nodded vigorously, getting a reluctant laugh from her.

"Absolutely. She terrifies me. If you hadn't turned up I'd have faked a fainting fit or something," Ron told her, a hand over his heart dramatically. This earned a second, more genuine laugh and Hermione opened the first book.

Harry joined them an hour later, sliding into the seat beside Ron and pulling his own work out with a slight sigh. To Ron's anxious eyes he was a little slumped and pale, but he wasn't shaking or anything, and his movements were assured and purposeful.

"Was it bad?" Hermione asked tentatively. Harry rolled his eyes and shook his head. He glanced around and leaned over the table to whisper in her ear, before settling back beside Ron and reaching a hand into Ron's lap.

/They were pretty reasonable/ his fingers told Ron's thigh /I'm still teaching/

"Good," Ron nodded, "Do you want to see what we've done so far?"

"Sure," Harry nodded, pulling Ron's essay over for a look. Hermione hit Ron with a speculative look and winked when she was sure that Harry couldn't see. Ron's heart lightened. It was a double blessing that Hermione already knew about their relationship and the last two years effect on Harry. She had joined her efforts to his wholeheartedly to cheer Harry up at every opportunity.

"We'd have done more, but I had to rescue Ron from Lavender Brown," she sniped and Ron rolled his eyes theatrically. Harry raised an eyebrow in inquiry and Ron sighed, feigning more irritation than he really felt. Lavender wasn't a bad person. She just couldn't take a hint.

"She wants to know who we're taking to the Valentine Ball," he warned Harry, "I told her you were taking Hannah."

"Great Scott, is she going on about that already?" Harry rolled his eyes, "Well, at least Hermione was here to save you."

Ron elbowed him, getting a sly grin and a little wink in reply. Harry's face regained some colour and Ron let the subject drop. They'd cheered his spouse up and that was good enough for now.

0oo0oo0

Harry pulled his cloak shut against the cold and huddled into Hermione's side. Ron was pressed into her other side, and Hermione cradled the small portable fire that was her speciality on her lap. The partners had provided her with a small pad that would allow her to cradle the fire without burning herself. The cold wind and the slight rain did not make for the best of spectating conditions. The match between Fiji and Ireland would be starting in about twenty minutes. The whole school was already in their allotted seats, ushered there by the teachers in order to ensure that they wouldn't get caught up in the swirling mass of public that was even now streaming into the newly enlarged stadium. The school seats were along the bottom row in the middle of the pitch. They'd have to crane their necks to see the action, but at least they were allowed to watch. Ron and Harry both had their Omnioculars in order to follow the action more closely.

"Well! What would Susan and Hannah think?" Lavender's voice drifted down towards them and Harry sighed. The girl still hadn't got over their rejection of her and her friends as dates again. He debated responding, but was saved the trouble when Hannah herself responded.

"We'd think they look warm and cuddle up too," she sidled past him to settle beside Ron, and Susan came to cuddle up with Harry. He made room for her and slid an arm around her waist so she could snuggle in comfortably. The fact that they were snuggling up to the wrong person - Hannah was supposedly going to the Ball with Harry - had Lavender muttering indignantly in the background.

"And the best part of this is I get the most benefits," Hermione gloated, and Harry snickered while Susan leant around him to swat at Hermione in a friendly manner. The crowd in the stands opposite ebbed and flowed as they found their own seats, and Harry glanced around, noting the presence of the Aurors and the boxes that were heated for the people who had paid for the privileged seats.

"Who's going to be commentating?" Susan shivered and Harry pulled her a bit closer, sharing his cloak generously. He shrugged and looked over at Ron, who also shrugged.

"Probably Bagman," she sighed, "Despite the fact that he didn't manage to get this organised he'll be up the front taking the credit."

"He's the luckiest, slackest, most idiotic person I've ever heard of," Ron shook his head, rubbing Hannah's arm briskly to warm her up too.

"Yeah when I grow up I want to be just like him," Hannah agreed, and they all laughed at her, the humour warming them as much as the shared body heat. The crowd got a bit quieter when the enhanced voice of the Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports welcomed them all to Hogwarts and started introducing the two teams. Hogwarts was supporting the team that they were hosting in order to make them feel welcome, although Seamus had been heard imploring people not to let the Irish supporters see him.

"This is going to be wicked!" Hannah cheered as Fiji came soaring out onto the pitch in their black and white robes. Harry laughed, his spirit soaring with them, cheering as they completed a lap of the pitch and faced off against Ireland.

From then on the action was fast and furious. The Irish Seeker treated them to some brilliant displays of flying, dodging between the Chasers as they disputed the possession of the quaffle. The Fiji Seeker played the game a bit more sedately, going in only to give an advantage to his own team, choosing a vantage point and looking for the snitch from there.

"Fiji plays the way you do Harry!" Susan said in his ear and Harry blushed, shaking his head. He was a good player, but he had no delusions that the game he played was at a level much lower than that of International standards. The school played a good game, but it was still school level Quidditch.

0oo0oo0

"That was wicked!" Seamus pranced around the common room, still cheering the Irish victory. Fiji had led in the scoring, with a hundred and forty goals to nil, until the Irish Seeker had caught the snitch, ending the game and winning the match for his team by ten points. Ron watched his spouse laugh at the Irishman, a book resting open in his lap. The whole House was still excited by the match, and Ron just knew that he and Hermione were going to have a hard time getting them all to head off to bed.

"Did you see that Sloth Grip Roll?" Neville piped up, "The Keeper did it perfectly!"

Ron mused that things were at a fever pitch if even the normally placid Neville was spouting off at the top of his lungs. Harry grinned over at him and went back to his book. He was reading one of his many books on defence against the Dark Arts - this particular one a volume leant to him by the Headmaster. Ron watched as Dean plopped onto the chair next to Harry, leaned over to get a look at the book, and then frowned. Ron's trouble radar went off, and he shifted uneasily in his seat.

"Hey, Harry?" Dean tapped the corner of the book, "Are you taking remedial Defence Against the Dark Arts this term?"

"Um," Harry looked up in astonishment and then sighed. Ron could actually see his green eyed partner swallow his pride and prepare to tell a lie. The problem was that Harry was a rotten liar and Ron could see that Dean had already spotted his intention too.

"Yeah, I am," he didn't meet Dean's eyes, and therefore didn't see the anger cross their former dorm mates face. Dean slapped the book aside, getting in Harry's face.

"Bollocks," Dean snapped, "I can tell you're lying, Harry. What's really going on? You and Ron have been taking extra lessons for the past four terms, and I know that you're not failing Defence Against the Dark Arts. You might have fooled Malfoy into thinking you were both failing school, but you should at least…"

"That's enough," Ron moved over to back his friend up, glaring at Dean in the suddenly quiet common room. They never had any luck, Dean's little outburst had come during a lull in festivities, and quite a few of their Housemates were openly staring in curiosity.

"Dumbledore is giving us extra lessons in Defence," Ron continued, "We're not lying about that."

He left unsaid the rest of the story, and saw Dean's eyes light up in understanding. Hermione had not been able to get permission to join them for this last term of extra instruction, much to all their disappointment, and Ron guessed that her sudden exclusion from the extra lessons had got Dean's imagination fired up.

"Sorry, Dean," Harry said softly, "We can't tell you more."

Dean nodded and took a deep breath. He let Harry see his regret for his impulsive actions and got up.

"Yeah, me too," he said awkwardly and headed for his dorm room. Conversation started up again softly, and Harry met Ron's eyes in apology. Ron shrugged and settled back into his chair. Beth came to sit with him, asking questions about the unusual grip the Fiji Keeper used on her broom and Ron let himself be diverted. They had been lucky that no one had called them on the extra lessons before, and doubly lucky that the questions had come from in-house. He noticed Hermione slipping into Harry's chair with his partner and tugging the book over so she could read it as well, acting as if nothing had happened. Ron let her comfort Harry for now, knowing that he could complete the task tonight when they were alone together.

0oo0oo0

The Valentines Ball came up quickly after that. Harry woke on the fourteenth and rolled out of Ron's grip to go look for Hedwig. He felt a little sick this morning, and the thought of breakfast was not very appealing. Unfortunately, his Ron was a bit of a martinet about his eating habits, still trying to get him to put a bit of weight on. Harry had always been thin; it was a fact and didn't bother him.

Hedwig was waiting in the owlry with her package. Harry fed her the treats he'd tucked into his dressing gown and hurried back to the common room, relieved to find it still empty, but not too surprised. Dawn was still staining the sky, and his Housemates were not known for their early rising habits - something that he and Ron had taken advantage of more than once, sneaking into the boys' bathroom for a quick morning treat involving hot water and slippery skins.

Ron was restless in their bed as Harry sealed the door, his arm sweeping over the spot where Harry had been lying. He paused for a moment to admire his partner, before pulling the flat package out from his dressing gown and sliding back into the warm nest of blankets. He put his cold feet firmly on Ron's to wake him up and snickered at the resulting protest and mumbling.

"Sod," Ron heaved himself up and onto Harry, lying on him fully. Harry's stomach protested for a second before settling, and he was glad that Ron wasn't awake enough to have noticed the twinge of discomfort, "How did your feet get so bloody cold? They're like blocks of ice!"

"Went for a walk," Harry replied succinctly, "Got you a present."

"Sneaky bugger," Ron's eyes lit up. Harry loved that his partner was still so childlike in his appreciation of gifts. Harry loved giving presents to Ron, and not just because he had a generous nature. Ron chose to express his gratitude in pleasurable and creative ways. Harry was recalled to the moment by Ron's tongue, which went delving in his ear rather wetly.

"Yuck, I had a bath last night," Harry protested, and Ron snickered at him, wriggling around until he was comfortable and propping his head in his hands. Harry wheezed and complained quietly under his partner's antics, grinning when Ron stilled. He pulled the package out from under his pillow and handed it to Ron. It was wrapped in plain brown paper and string, and Ron pretended to swoon over it.

"Such romantic wrapping," he teased, and slid off Harry to sit up. Harry followed him, snuggling back in to the warm body, softly protesting the loss of contact.

"Hey, I can hug you any time," Ron replied cheekily and ripped the paper off, his hands rubbing curiously over the blue dyed leather book inside, "What's this then?"

"Do you need my glasses?" Harry teased, "What does it look like?"

Ron nudged him and opened the book, his breath catching at the house sigils affixed to the front page with their names written in their new familial script beneath it. The date of their wedding and the celebrants name was also in the book, with spaces below for them to add the names of any children, and their godparents. Harry shifted closer, a little nervous now that Ron would think this was a stupid idea.

"Muggles have a family book - actually it's usually a Bible, a copy of their religious text - and I thought that we should start our own. I talked to Charlie about it and he brought his camera along to the wedding, and I got some pictures from Colin as well," Harry explained. Ron leaned over and kissed him in reply, the wordless gesture reassuring Harry that he hadn't done anything stupid.

The first pages had pictures of them, standing by themselves. Ron was in the kitchen of the Burrow, drying a plate, and Harry was in the garden under the tree they'd been married beneath, snow falling lightly on his hair and shoulders. They wore everyday clothes. Then came the shots of them at school, with friends and together, or by themselves, candid shots where they didn't know the camera was pointing at them. There was a picture of each in their Quidditch robes, with Ron saving a goal, and Harry catching the snitch. The next page showed them with their wrists bound together in their wedding robes, the box with their rings floating above the tied hands. There were pictures of them at their wedding reception with family members and friends, smiling and happy. The pages after that were blank.

"Remind me to thank Charlie and Colin," Ron put the book very carefully aside, and then took Harry's glasses off too. This was becoming a familiar gesture between them, a small intimacy that Harry cherished.

"But first I think I'd better thank you," Ron continued and Harry leaned into the kiss that was being offered, letting his fingers talk to Ron's skin when his mouth was silenced.

0oo0oo0

Still brooding over Lavender Brown's smug remarks about being stood up, Ron missed the arrival of his partner. Harry had been delayed from coming down when Beth had asked for help with her homework. Ron didn't begrudge the girl Harry's time; he knew how good it felt to have Harry's attention focussed on you and your problems. Then there was the way he focussed on his lover, though Ron was the only person that knew how that felt.

"You awake there?" Harry's voice drew him out of his thoughts and Ron grinned, shrugging. Harry settled in to lean on the wall beside him, looking up the stairs for their dates. Ron went back to his thoughts, and missed Harry's move away to meet Hannah. Susan cleared her throat in a bid for his attention and he jumped, flushing a little and looking up at her.

"Happy Valentines, Ron," Susan snickered and presented him with a rose. She was looking stunning in her new dress robes and Ron laughed, kissing her cheek and pinning the rose to his own robes. Hannah and Harry were engaged in a similar ritual and Ron shook his head at his 'date'.

"How very gallant of you both," Harry was telling Hannah, who dropped a curtsey in reply. Ron offered Susan his arm and led her off towards the school doors, Harry and Hannah a step behind. It felt comfortable to walk with another couple. The expectation of romantic chatter and attention was lifted and no one had to worry about hurting someone else's feelings in the long run. He tuned back in to the conversation around him, making an effort to clear out the wandering thoughts.

"Now promise me that this dance will be different," Susan was saying lightly. Ron glanced back over his shoulder with a grin. Harry was smiling at him conspiratorially. They had anticipated this topic would come up and agreed on a response together. Ron tipped him a wink and turned back to Susan.

"You did bring your wand, didn't you?" he asked, "Because we thought that you two could defend us this time!"

"Oi!" Hannah slapped at his shoulder from behind, not really upset, but playing along anyway, "That's not very gentlemanly of you!"

"He's not very gentlemanly at the best of times," Harry spoke up in a tone of long suffering experience and the girls jeered at Ron while they cooed over 'poor Harry'. He bore it cheerfully; Harry didn't tease him often and wouldn't let things get out of hand.

Susan shivered as the cold air stirred around them and Ron drew her closer. They were not the first couples on the path by any means - the girls had kept them waiting this time, so there were at least ten people ahead of them. Ron felt the tingle that signified the end of Hogwarts protective wards, and rubbed his thumb on Susan's wrist before realising she wouldn't be able to read the gesture the way Harry would. There was something not quite right, despite the cheerful noise of his fellow students breaking the still night air.

"Ron," Harry's voice was a little tense, and Ron turned his head to look back at his partner. Harry evidently felt the same way - something was not right here. Their dates exchanged looks; apparently thinking this was another joke.

"Are you two doing this on purpose?" Hannah asked with asperity. They didn't have the chance to answer her at all, as stunning spells came whizzing out of the trees, striking up and down the line of students. Harry went down soundlessly, Hannah grabbing for him and her wand at the same time. Ron shouted wordlessly, lunging for his partner and not feeling the spell that hit him, knocking him out as well.

0oo0oo0

Harry woke to pain. His scar was splitting his head open - he half expected to feel the slippery heat of blood on his face when he raised a trembling hand to touch it. The scar was hot and throbbing, the light touch of his shaking fingers was almost unbearable. Dropping his hand, Harry squinted around, trying to remember what had happened. Wherever he was it was cold and dark. There was no glimmer of light anywhere, and cautious, painful movement showed Harry he was lying in a very small space indeed, barely large enough for him to curl into a ball in an attempt to warm up a little. The rose on his lapel was almost overpowering in the small space and he managed to pluck it off with numb fingers.

The action triggered his memory, Beth's homework, Ron's distraction and the girls joking gifts to them. The light teasing of his partner as they walked down the path to Hogsmeade and the tingle of the wards leaving their skin. He thought he'd heard a stunning spell, which meant they'd been under attack, but he couldn't remember fighting back.

"Ron?" the whisper was met with silence. When he lay perfectly still and held his breath there was no other sound that indicated a second presence. His partner was not with him, and Harry could only hope that wherever Ron was he was safe. If Harry were the only one taken then they'd be able to trace the Death Eaters through the ring that nestled warmly around his finger - the only warmth in his prison. The ring was all that kept Harry from battering on the walls of his prison in desperation. As long as the ring was warm Ron was alive.

He was unable to stifle a moan as his scar sent a bolt of agony through his already aching head and his stomach roiled unpleasantly. Wherever Voldemort was he was furious with someone. Harry stuffed a fist into his mouth, determined not to give his captors the pleasure of hearing his pain. He failed as the pain reached a crescendo unlike anything he had ever felt before, and Harry screamed into the freezing, suffocating dark, tasting blood as it pooled at the back of his throat.

0oo0oo0

Ron glared at Lucius Malfoy. He was chained to a wall, his arms and head aching. The room was well lit, the smoke of the torches drifting up to a high ceiling. The circular room was dominated by a two tiered dais in the middle of the room, upon which rested a large stone chair on the top level, and a stone sarcophagus on the one below it.

He had awakened surrounded by jeering Death Eaters, all pointing their wands at him. The white masks were creepy, but he was able to discern a few identities despite the so-called disguises. Snape was here, standing against the wall next to Crabbe and Goyle's fathers. Ron had thought that he'd even seen Kreacher around here somewhere, and made a mental note to tell the Headmaster that they had definitely been betrayed by the elf.

Voldemort appeared in front of the chair, and the Death Eaters jerked away from Ron immediately, cringing and bowing to the foul creature on the stone throne. Voldemort's red eyes glared down at him, and Ron felt that there was something very snakelike about the most hated Wizard and self styled Dark Lord.

"McNab! Explain this!" Voldemort shrieked and sent the Cruciatus spell at the nearest body. It shrieked and trembled, falling to the floor and thrashing about. Ron felt like he was going to be sick, and bit his lips, the blood draining from his face as Voldemort tortured the Wizard on the floor. The screams echoed oddly in the round chamber, rolling on and on as the torture continued without pause or mercy.

"My Lord! My Lord! You sent us to capture Potter!" Malfoy's voice was thin and scared, and ordinarily Ron would have been very pleased to hear the fear in the senior Malfoy's voice. Now it just frightened him more. If the Death Eaters were that afraid of the man they served, then Ron would have no chance against the Dark Wizard. How had Harry managed to face off against this evil being time and again and not gone mad with fear? His lovers' nightmares were starting to make more sense, and Ron was wishing that they didn't.

The ring around his finger, unnoticed so far by his captors, was the sole point of comfort in this nightmare. Harry was alive, as evinced by the warm weight of the metal against his cold skin. Maybe the Death Eaters had brought Ron to Voldemort because they'd failed to catch Harry. He was bait for his spouse. In their haste to appease their 'master' the Death Eaters had inadvertently picked the one hostage that Harry would rush headlong to protect.

"That is not Potter!" Voldemort's accusation was accompanied by a fresh wave of torture, this time directed at Malfoy. Malfoy's scream was high and thin, and seemed to please his master, because the blonde man wasn't tortured for nearly as long as the unfortunate McNab, who had yet to move from where he had fallen. Again the sound echoed oddly, as if the stones themselves were reacting to the torture.

"My Lord, my son has told us that Potter would do anything for that boy! We thought it best to give you the means to control Potter!" a plump woman spoke up from her place along the wall. She screamed and went down in a painful heap when the Dark Lord turned the Cruciatus curse on her for a moment. Ron wondered who her son was, and why Malfoy hadn't said that about dear old Draco.

"You think that I am unable to control the whelp?" the hissing voice sent tendrils of fear wrapping themselves around Ron's heart. He had always said that Voldemort was insane, but to be confronted with definite proof of the Dark Lord's insanity was almost more than he could bear.

"No my Lord," Malfoy panted, pulling himself up onto his knees, "He is there before you, to do with as you please."

Malfoy had evidently given up on the whole 'give Voldemort the means to torture Potter by torturing someone else' plan, but that didn't make Ron feel any better, because in the first place the only reason for them to keep him alive was to curb Harry's ability to fight, and in the second place, his hope that Harry had somehow gotten away, or been left behind was dashed as Crabbe and Goyle stepped forward and pulled the lid off the stone sarcophagus, reaching in and dragging Harry out.

0oo0oo0

The sudden incursion of light was more painful than Harry had ever expected, and it stunned him long enough for hard hands to grab him and drag him out. Harry fell to his knees, containing his cries of pain by the slightest margin. He heard a high-pitched laugh and shuddered as his scar throbbed in sympathy. He knew that sound - it had haunted his dreams for years.

"Potter," Voldemort's voice had his skin crawling in revulsion, "We meet once more."

The way Harry saw it he had two choices. He could go out, snivelling on his knees and cowering before the worlds most evil Wizard, or he could stand on his own two feet with dignity. Harry took as deep a breath as he could and made his choice, dragging himself slowly, painfully upright. He had no delusions that there would be a death here today, and it would probably be his. Sympathetic Magic or not, he was in no condition to reach for his bond. The pain was all consuming, as Voldemort probably intended it to be.

The Dark Lord was sitting on a stone throne at the top of a dais, his red eyes glaring down at Harry. The two men who had pulled him out of his prison had let go and moved away quickly, as if afraid of being caught in the crossfire. They were in a round chamber, and the walls were lined with Death Eaters. Voldemort evidently wanted an audience when he killed Harry, and the young man did his best to straighten up proudly.

"So defiant," Voldemort sneered, "Would you beg for your life?"

"Never," the whisper was thin and filled with the pain from his scar, but it was the best Harry could do at short notice. Voldemort cackled, the sound raising the hairs on the back of Harry's neck.

"Would you beg for your companion?" the Cruciatus spell went past Harry, striking someone behind him. Ron's voice shouted in pain and outrage and Harry's legs crumpled, failing to support him as he felt Ron's pain and his own as Voldemort lashed at him through the connection they shared in Harry's scar. Darkness edged Harry's vision and he sobbed for breath, fighting it back, beating back the despair he felt. His partner's torture was almost more than he could bear and Harry fought to think, to come up with some plan to save Ron. He'd give his own life in a heartbeat if it would ensure Ron's safety. He knew better than that though. A familiar pair of shoes caught his eye, and Harry bit his lip until it bled, wondering if Snape would tell Dumbledore how poorly the partnership they had trained these last four terms had fared in their final battle.

Snape's shoes reminded Harry of something else though, and he welcomed the darkness briefly, letting it take him away from the pain for a few brief seconds, just long enough for him to pull the Occlumency in place, drawing it around his battered nerves like an old, worn familiar cloak. He woke when Malfoy and the bitch Bellatrix hauled him back to his feet, and locked his knees. The calm of the Occlumency was a welcome oasis, and Ron's pained cries had stopped. The ring was warm, and Harry took heart in that. As long as they were alive there was a chance.

"Avery," Voldemort hissed, "I want you to torture that thing you've chained to my wall until Potter is begging me to kill it."

Harry took a deep breath and reached deep inside for their bond. He placed a shield around Ron, wishing that they could touch, but not needing it or his wand to protect them both, grateful beyond words that Flitwick had insisted that they learn to protect themselves this way. The shield reflected the spell back at Avery as Dumbledore had taught them, who squealed in pain and fell to the floor. Malfoy and Bellatrix dropped his arms as if he was suddenly burning hot and backed away; feeling the power that suddenly flowed through the 'helpless' teen.

"What is this?" Voldemort roared and sent the Cruciatus curse at Harry.

His hands came up, palm out, instinct guiding him as he caught the spell in his hands, containing the raw energy of the spell, forming it into a ball between his hands. When Dumbledore had tried to teach them to deflect the spells with their bond, they had managed to master the skill. However, it had felt horribly strange to Harry, worse than trying to learn to control their magic without touching each other. This act of catching and containing the spell felt right, and Ron's silent support flooded through him as his partner recovered from the agony of the Cruciatus curse.

"What magic is this?" Bellatrix cried and stumbled to the floor as Harry threw the curse he'd caught at her, taking no pleasure in her pain, merely getting rid of the energy before it tried to overcome him. Malfoy and McNab drew their wands and threw their own curses at Harry. He caught them again, feeling somehow distanced from the action, balling the two different curses up together, and combining them before throwing them away once more. This time he threw the energy at Voldemort, hitting his target dead centre, watching dispassionately as the most evil Wizard in the world hastily ducked behind a shield of his own.

The Magic in Harry swelled and grew, flooding through Harry as the Killing Curse was cast at him from all sides, the Death Eaters rushing to the defence of their cruel master. He caught the evil green light, the power crackling up his arms to his elbows, his hair standing on end in reaction, his torn and filthy dress robes snapping and crackling in a breeze that didn't exist. More and more curses came arrowing through the air at him and he caught them all, gathering their energy, as instinct demanded he do, as Ron's support told him to, while his memory stirred and whispered what he must do next.

In his first year of Hogwarts, Harry had tried to find out what had happened to his parents upon the discovery of their bodies. His Aunt and Uncle had never taken him to see their graves, and Harry had always wondered where his parents' final resting place was. He had discovered that the Wizarding world didn't bury their dead. They used the last vestiges of magic in the body of the deceased to dissolve the body and cast it to the Four Corners of the world, preventing anyone from practicing the Dark Art of Necromancy on the mortal remains.

Harry had memorised the ceremony, whispering the words to himself in a dark corner of the school library, trying to gain some comfort from knowing that wherever his parents were they were together, resting in peace.

That memory stirred to life now and with Ron's silent acquiescence he cast the energy that the Death Eaters were feeding him inadvertently at Voldemort, reciting aloud the beginning of the funeral rites. He watched dispassionately as Voldemort's body shrivelled and died under the onslaught of Harry's combined power, as the body levitated obediently, the arms and legs spread-eagled in a grotesque sprawl.

He watched the red eyes lose the last spark of life and couldn't rejoice that he had finally avenged the deaths of so many innocents, his parents included. Blood sprayed from his mouth as he forced his throat, lacerated by his previous screams, to project the words of the funeral rite into the chamber. Voldemort's body became transparent, despite all the Dark Rites he had forced himself to endure in an effort to prevent this very thing from ever happening.

The Death Eaters ran, their terror fouling the air of the chamber. Ron's serene presence in the bond didn't even falter for a moment as the partners were forced to expend more of their own energies to see Voldemort to his final and permanent resting place. The chamber shook and the walls cracked from the pure potency of their Magic, but Harry was steadfast in his actions, his voice growing smaller and smaller as his abused throat gave out under the strain. The final words were almost soundless, the pain in his body all-consuming as Voldemort's husk was blasted apart and scattered to the Four Corners of the World.

The power receded, draining away in a rush and Harry fell to his knees, black spots taking over his vision, panting harshly for air. He tried to muster the strength to free Ron, but the first attempt at raising his head was too much for his already overtaxed strength and he slumped to the cold stone floor, unconscious.

0oo0oo0


	16. Term 2, 7th year 2

When Harry fainted to the floor as the Cruciatus spell hit him, Ron thought it was all over for them both, right then and there. If he couldn't control his own pain - let it weaken Harry so dangerously, as it was so obviously doing now - then they were as good as dead, and for a selfish moment Ron wished they were. Then Harry's body shrank a little on the cold stones, even before Malfoy and Bellatrix tried to touch him, and through the pain, Ron felt a kind of triumph. He'd spent the last two years holding Harry extra close while his lovers' body shrank protectively, the Occlumency their only defence of Harry's mind.

He heard the order for his death dispassionately, watching Harry closely as he gasped through the last of the pain. The shield that sprang to life was warm and soothing, and Ron let his head fall back against the stones behind him, watching through slitted eyes as Harry once more rose to the challenge of the battle against Voldemort. He made himself a passive conduit and siphoned as much power from his surroundings as he possibly could as his partner caught the lethal spells flying his way and combined their power to enhance the bond.

He watched in surprise as even the Killing Curse failed to touch Harry, instead it was plucked from the very air and confined, contained to do their joint bidding. A part of him almost laughed when he saw the untameable black hair tinge as red as his own, some instinct telling him that his own hair was now partially black, a sign of their bond manifesting itself physically.

Harry's poor voice rose in the funeral chant as the Death Eaters themselves handed over the power needed to destroy Voldemort once and for all. Ron had to shut his eyes, almost blinded by the spectacle, and only when it was silent in the chamber again did he open them. Harry was swaying on his knees, panting, head bowed. The dais above him was empty, the stone throne cracked in half. As Ron watched the shield around him faded and Harry slumped lifelessly to the floor.

"Harry!" Ron shrieked in panic and fought against the chains that still bound him to the wall, his wrists still shackled above his head, his feet spread uncomfortably apart. After a moment he looked desperately up at his wedding ring, forcing himself to calm down enough to feel the ring finger, sobbing in relief when he felt the warmth of Harry's pulse in it.

"Mr Weasley, calm down," Professor Snape's voice was as cool as ever and shocked Ron back into his right mind. The Potions master stepped out of the alcove where he'd hidden as the Death Eaters fled the room and probably returned to their homes in fear. Ron couldn't wait to help the Aurors track them all down.

Snape was standing in front of him now, and Ron watched as the Professor raised his wand and severed the chains, freeing him from his confinement. Ron staggered and would have fallen if not for Snape's arm sliding around his waist and holding him up. The grey robes of the Death Eater looked so wrong on the Order's spy that Ron shivered and tugged at them fitfully.

"Grey is not your colour," he informed the man holding him up giddily, and giggled at the disgusted look on Snape's face. He pushed off from the other man and wobbled over to Harry, barking his shins on the steps of the dais and crawling to the huddled lump.

Harry's hair had returned to its usual shade of black, except for one lock that fell over his scar. The copper hairs there mingled with the black around them, almost unnoticeable in the mess. He looked up as Snape came to kneel beside them, the grey robes gone, his usual severe frock coat and trousers a comforting point of normality. From the glance Snape directed to his own head, Ron surmised that Harry had left a few of his black hairs behind as well.

"He's cold," his voice was peevish, but Ron was shaking too hard to pick Harry up off the floor - even if he could have gotten his arms securely around his spouse he would have dropped him the moment he tried to move. Snape heaved a sigh and went back for his robes, wrapping Harry in the discarded cloth. Ron hated the sight of the grey uniform against his lovers skin but had nothing better to offer him.

"We must leave before they decide to return and see who has won," Snape picked Harry up with a grunt and Ron dragged himself up with the help of the stone sarcophagus which had imprisoned his partner. He blanched when he saw the date and Harry's name carved onto the lid.

"My wand?" Ron did his best to focus on the matter at hand, not on what might have been. With Harry unconscious - and blood spattered, which was chilling Ron to the marrow - the bond was quiescent. Ron's ability at wand less magic hadn't been as confident as Harry's, Ron was the grounded one in their partnership, and Harry was the elemental one.

"Your wands were not brought with you," Snape's voice recalled Ron's wandering attention again and he grimaced, disappointed with himself.

"I can't defend us," Ron hated admitting weakness to Snape, but he wanted them to get out of there in one piece, and pride would have to take a back seat. Snape gave him an impenetrable look and then nodded curtly.

"With luck," the distaste in that last word spoke volumes, "You won't have to try. I can Apparate back to the school with Harry and return for you."

"No," Ron shook his head, instinct ruling his decision, "We leave here together."

"How?" Snape snapped tartly, "You're in no condition to Apparate alone."

"I won't have to," Ron stumbled to Snape's side and held out the wilted rose from his lapel, "You're going to make a portkey and take us to the hospital wing."

Snape gave him a very long look and then angled the hand that clutched his wand to perform the charm. Ron reached out and clutched Harry about the ankles, then brought the rose into contact with the wand so that Snape could activate the key. He felt the usual tug behind his navel, and crashed to his knees seconds later in the middle of the hospital wing. Snape stepped back and whirled to lay Harry on a bed, calling for Madam Pomfrey as he did. Ron let it all wash over him, slumping to the cool floor and letting go of consciousness.

0oo0oo0

Harry did not feel at all well. His body ached with a dull persistency. His head throbbed unpleasantly, and his throat was so raw that he didn't even want to think about speaking to anyone for at least the rest of this year. To top it all off he felt like throwing up, an action that he knew deep in his bones would hurt terribly, and the smell of someone's cup of pumpkin juice wasn't helping matters at all.

On the plus side, Ron's arm was wrapped around his waist, and Ron's familiar soft snore was sounding in his ear. That simple contact went a long way to reassuring Harry that wherever they were and whatever was going on they were safe. The place they were laying was soft, and wonderfully warm. It was not terribly large, Harry could sense that he was close to the edge of it, and felt that if Ron rolled away from him he would likely fall off another edge.

To prevent any falls, Harry took Ron's hand in his, holding it tightly despite his aches and pains and considering his next move. His eyes were closed, yet Harry thought that it was daylight, a vague golden glow beyond his eyelids telling him that there was natural light adding warmth to the bed. If they were in bed and someone was drinking that foul smelling pumpkin juice, then the chances were that they were in the hospital wing at Hogwarts.

To confirm this vague conclusion, Harry slowly and carefully opened his eyes, a task that took a lot of effort. They focussed unwillingly on the person sitting beside the bed, sipping the drink that was turning Harry's stomach. She was reading a book on her lap, and not really paying attention to them at all, which was fine because Harry didn't want to be fussed over. Hermione looked tired, and the hand that turned the pages of her book was a little shaky.

Memory returned with a rush, and Harry gasped, attracting Hermione's attention as he stirred in Ron's warm embrace.

"Harry!" Hermione whispered in relief. She put the cup of juice down and leant over to hug him, kissing his cheek and sitting back with moist eyes. She held a hand up, and the expression on her face warned him to listen carefully to what she was about to say.

"Before you start trying to talk, don't. Madam Pomfrey says that your throat needs you to be utterly silent to heal. I know what you're going to ask, so just listen, ok?" the bossy tone was comforting to Harry. She'd been bossing them around since their first year, and the behaviour was as welcome now as it could be annoying when he was feeling one hundred percent.

"First of all, no one was killed. There were some minor injuries, but Madam Pomfrey has it all under control. When we realised that you and Ron were gone… Professor Dumbledore was beside himself. I've never seen him so upset in my life. He called the Order together, of course, and Fudge and the Aurors had to be told as well. Everyone was out looking for you. Tom Riddle had already called Professor Snape, and we could only hope that he could help you out somehow. You returned to the school with him two hours ago. He told us that Tom is dead, and then went down to his dungeon to brew a potion for your throat," Hermione looked up as Madam Pomfrey appeared, beaming at Harry in a most unusual manner. Madam Pomfrey was not dour or unpleasant, but she usually frowned at you a little when you required her skills. Her lectures were legendary, and students went out of their way to avoid them.

"Ah, Mr Potter, you're awake," she patted the hand that was clutching Ron, "I must ask you to step outside, Miss Granger while I look him over."

Ten painful minutes later Harry slumped back against his still sleeping partner. The one attempt he'd made to speak - at her request - had brought tears to his eyes and left him shaking in pain. He felt too weak to deal with anything other than sleeping right now, but had the feeling that he wouldn't have that luxury. On the plus side, Hermione had taken her pumpkin juice away, and Harry's stomach was settling.

There was a small commotion at the door that had Harry wishing for his wand, as Fudge swirled into the room, Rita Skeeter at his heels. Madam Pomfrey bristled and positively leapt down the ward, spitting nails as she headed them off. The Weasley's were the next through the door, and the resulting commotion finally woke Ron.

"Wassup?" the sleepy question was breathed in Harry's ear and he used his fingers to reply, grateful that with Ron awake there was an easy way for him to communicate. Ron sighed and shifted so he could kiss the ear he was breathing into before sitting up a bit and drawing Harry with him. Harry felt his heart wrench, moved beyond words that the precious gift of Ron in his life hadn't been destroyed by Voldemort's evil.

/love you so much/ Harry whispered into Ron's palm//thank you for staying alive and with me/

"It's ok, mate," Ron soothed, "I would never leave you behind. You're stuck with me Potter. Don't you ever forget it."

0oo0oo0

Ron watched with concern as Harry toyed with his breakfast for the sixth day running. Ever since they'd woken in the hospital wing with Fudge going toe to toe with his mother - Fudge had lost, and Molly had thrown him out of the ward before coming to sit on their bed and rub their knees like she had all through Ron's childhood - Harry had found keeping a meal down in the morning difficult. He'd complained - albeit silently - that even the smell of some types of food and drink made him want to throw up, and whined to Ron - through the medium of their fingers - that he didn't want to eat, he wanted to sleep.

Ron had fully recovered his energy after only three days of almost solid sleep. The fact that Harry had not had him terribly worried.

Life had gone on. With the death of Voldemort, which Fudge had announced to the press as if he himself had directed the battle and fought in single-handed combat, there had been a very large party for the Wizarding world while he and Harry slept. That had seemed a bit unfair, but Harry seemed relieved. Ron wasn't displeased they'd slept through Fudge's tedious speeches and useless hyperbole, but he would have liked to party with Gryffindor. His House threw the best parties, and they'd missed it.

Parents had flocked to the school on the eve of the Ball, demanding to see their children and demanding that Dumbledore do _something_ to end these attacks, only to be silenced by the haggard appearance of Snape on the Great Staircase. The Head of Slytherin House had informed the assembled that Harry and Ron had killed the Dark Lord and then disappeared into his private dungeon to brew up a few potions, one of which was responsible for healing Harry's poor, abused throat. There had been a lot of fuss and bother, and the parents had eventually left, the school remaining open.

Lessons had been suspended for two days, then things had returned to normal, or as normal as possible when the teachers themselves were moving with a lighter step. Several of the Slytherin students had found themselves targets of pitying looks as their Death Eater parents either disappeared entirely, or were arrested by the Aurors. Draco Malfoy had lost his father when Lucius decided to fight the Aurors that were trying to arrest him, bringing part of his own Manor down around his ears. His mother was found a day later, wandering aimlessly, freed from the Imperious Curse that her husband had cast upon their wedding night. School unity had held them together though, and the Slytherins had found a degree of acceptance in their fellow students that eased the burden of worry just a little.

Ron and Harry had been released after four days in bed, spent sleeping for the most part, never more than a few inches apart. Fudge had come back to debrief them himself, with the Headmaster and their Head of House sitting together on the foot of their bed comfortably. The Minister for Magic hadn't been too happy with that development, hoping to have his 'young heroes' to himself. Harry had been able to speak in a whisper by then, though he still relied on their finger speak for the most part.

When Fudge had found out that they were practitioners of Sympathetic Magic, he had been very excited, and started making plans for their state wedding, offering to officiate at the ceremony himself. Harry had been furious and Ron had his hands full calming the green-eyed boy down again, letting Dumbledore tell the Minister that the wedding had taken place already and been properly witnessed by the families of both boys. Fudge looked thwarted and left not long after, muttering under his breath.

"We'll have to keep a close eye on him, Albus," Professor McGonagall had said thoughtfully and the Headmaster had patted her knee absently. Harry stirred out of Ron's arms enough to lean forward and kiss her cheek in thanks, before collapsing against Ron's chest and hiding his face in his partner's neck. Their Head of House had flushed and dimpled like a schoolgirl before hopping down from the bed and heading briskly to the door.

Ron was recalled to the present when Harry pushed away the dry toast on his plate, having only managed to eat half of a piece. Out of the corner of his eye, Ron saw Hermione notice this and make as if to speak. He shook his head at her and she closed her mouth again, a frustrated expression on her face.

"Harry?" Beth asked from opposite the table, "Would you like some of my pancakes?"

"No thanks, Beth," Harry's smile wasn't as bright as it had been, and his hoarse voice had everyone who heard it swallowing in sympathy, "I've got to get going. See you later, ok?"

"Ok," Beth looked at Ron with wide eyes and he smiled for her before abandoning his breakfast and grabbing his school bag. Harry glanced at him as they made their way down to potions and sighed.

"I'm sorry," he apologised, and Ron took his arm, pulling him to a stop. He didn't want Harry to feel responsible for Ron's feelings. His partner had enough on his plate just recovering from Valentines Day.

"Don't be. I worry because I love you," Ron reminded him, "You usually feel a bit better by lunch, so you can make up for it then."

"Sure," Harry nodded dispiritedly, "I just wish I didn't feel so… washed out. Everyone looks at me funny, and when we last saw Hagrid he practically carried me to a chair and refused to let me up."

"That was funny," Ron grinned in remembrance; "I thought he was going to end up carrying you back to our room."

Harry snorted at him in aggravation and swatted his shoulder in response. Ron grinned and gave him a peck on the cheek before heading down the stairs again. Harry was going to be seeing Madam Pomfrey tomorrow for a scheduled check up and if things weren't better he'd make sure his spouse mentioned the nausea.

0oo0oo0

Harry closed his mouth and cleared his throat uncomfortably, wincing and reaching for the water on the tray by the bed. Madam Pomfrey tutted under her breath and put away the last of her instruments.

"You're still very run down, Potter," she frowned at him, "And I've been watching you at meal times. You haven't been eating enough, especially at breakfast."

"I get sick," Harry confessed, confined to short sentences to save himself a little pain. The teachers would let Ron answer for him, or let Harry write his answer on parchment to be read out. Madam Pomfrey had shut Ron out of her examination of his spouse.

"Do you throw up, or simply feel nauseous?" Pomfrey waved her wand over him, creating a white glow around his chest and stomach.

"Both," Harry rasped, remembering this mornings little episode with the loo, "Only in the morning."

"Hmmm," she waved her wand again, and the white cloud began to take on various colours, shifting around and tingling through Harry's uniform to his skin. It felt kind of nice, and he relaxed, sitting up straighter to give it better access. Before the colours could settle at all the doors opened and Professor Dumbledore entered, a frown on his face and Ron at his heels.

Ron looked half excited, half angry, and Harry slipped off the bed, his muscles tensing in anticipation. Madam Pomfrey was exclaiming in displeasure, and the Headmaster had to spend a few minutes appeasing her wrath. Ron took the hand Harry was holding out, letting him ask what was going on painlessly. The finger talk had been a lifesaver, as Snape's potion was not fast acting.

"Minister Fudge has sent us a… proclamation," Ron tugged on Harry's hand until he was wrapped around his partner, a warm shoulder offering shelter for Harry's head, and a strong body supporting his still tired and aching one. It felt so good to be held and to hold.

"What?" Madam Pomfrey exclaimed, "What does he want from them now, Albus?"

Harry reflected that Madam Pomfrey was not the dullest knife in the drawer. The only reason for Dumbledore and Ron bursting in here like this was because Fudge was planning something. Ron's body was tense, but not battle ready, so Harry took a little comfort in the idea that whatever this was, it wasn't going to be too bad.

"Minister Fudge will be holding an award ceremony tonight in the Quidditch stadium. The whole school is expected to attend, as well as many dignitaries and notables from our world. He plans to confer upon Harry and Ron the Order of Merlin, First Class."

The Headmaster's dry statement had Harry gaping at him in astonishment. He didn't want an award, presented in front of the whole Wizarding world for something that, by the accident of his birth, he was fated to do. He looked at Ron, who was excited, and more than a little overwhelmed by the idea. His partner would finally get the recognition that he craved from those around him. For Ron, then, he could put up with the pomp and circumstance that was about to be inflicted upon him.

"According to Fudge's communication, Madam Malkin will be here shortly to provide the boys with appropriate robes for the occasion," Dumbledore turned to look at Harry. He thought he saw concern and worry in the older Wizards gaze and did his best to radiate well being and vigour while clinging to Ron for comfort and support.

"Will Harry be able to attend the ceremony?" Dumbledore hadn't been fooled by the act, and Harry sighed, running his fingers lightly over Ron's hand in reply.

"He says that he'll be fine if he can rest for a while today. We've got a flying lesson to give this morning before dinner," Ron translated, "Perhaps Madam Pomfrey could recommend a tonic as well?"

"Well…" she sighed and then nodded in agreement, "Just this once, on the understanding that tomorrow he spends the day in the hospital wing with me. I want to check him over from head to toe."

"Agreed," Harry rasped immediately. He had a feeling that the visit would be needed by then anyway, if he were to be a model of health and confidence this evening.

"Professor," Ron hesitated, "Can I invite Mum and Dad?"

"And the rest," Harry insisted, "We'll have as many of the family as we can."

He coughed painfully and sipped at the water that Ron Summoned for him, sitting down and waiting the discomfort out. He listened as Ron and the Headmaster agreed on how to get Ron's family there in time. The Headmaster bent and looked Harry in the eye for a long moment before giving him a gentle hug and pat then strode quickly out to organise the school for the occasion.

"Right," Madam Pomfrey snapped, "When is this lesson? After breakfast? You're to go to bed directly after that, Potter, and someone will bring you dinner. I'll send Professor Snape up with the potions you're to take after that. You're not to stir from your bed until I come and get you, is that understood?"

"Robes?" Harry risked the one word question, and watched the Matron purse her lips in exasperation. He had a feeling that if he didn't stop objecting to her orders right now she'd have him drinking the foulest tasting medicine she could possibly prescribe for him.

"I'll be supervising," she informed him with a sniff and waved him out the door, Ron's supportive arm around his waist. He was able to walk on his own, but it felt so good to be supported, to be simply cared for, that Harry indulged himself in the luxury for the short walk to the stairs.

/you'll spoil me/ he told Ron's wrist and smiled at the redhead as he pulled away. His Ron looked rather dashing with the tiny black streak of hair in his fringe. Mrs Weasley had gone all dewy eyed when she'd seen it and hugged them both fiercely.

"Never in a million years," Ron chuckled, "Do you feel up to a spot of toast?"

/I make no promises/ Harry sighed and Ron nodded. The Great Hall was looming in front of them and Harry could hear the chatter of his fellow students, reaching out of the doors like a welcoming hand.

0oo0oo0

Madam Malkin arrived in the foyer with colourful bolts of fabric, two assistants and a flurry that even the dullest student couldn't miss. Ron was waiting with Madam Pomfrey to meet her, and take her up to his dorm room. It had been decided that the fitting would take place there, so Harry had the least amount of travelling to do, and could be put straight to bed if necessary.

Wrestler was not best pleased at letting three people that were wholly unconnected with the school into the rooms it protected, but Ron talked the gargoyle around. Madam Malkin stared around at the comfortable quarters that had held Gryffindor for the past two years, and Ron led the way to the room that he and Harry lived in. The door was shut but not locked, and Madam Pomfrey ordered them all to wait outside while she went in to check on Harry and wake him.

"I thought that…" Madam Malkin trailed off and Ron sighed. There were probably hundreds of rumours floating around about his and Harry's health and status and everything else. They'd stopped reading the Daily Prophet last week, when it had told the world that they had died the night before. Ron's rather blistering cancellation of their subscription had gone unacknowledged by the paper, which had none-the-less published a retraction when it was deluged with Howlers from Ron's family and all their friends. Hermione read the paper now for them both, and leant them the Quidditch scores. The Seven Nations Cup had gone on undisturbed by recent events.

"The Daily Prophet needs to be renamed to the Daily Guesser," Ron muttered grumpily, wishing that he was in there waking Harry instead of their school Matron. He could wake his spouse with gentle kisses and strokes, giving him time to orient himself and gather his wits. The school Matron would wake him gently, but not in such a pleasurable fashion. At least… she'd better not!

"Right, lets get this over with," Madam Pomfrey opened the door to let them in, and Ron walked past the snickering assistants to greet Harry with a touch and a smile. His partner was wearing the hideously bright dressing gown that Dobby had given him, which had the advantage of being floor length and warm. Madam Malkin regarded it with a sniff of disapproval, and Harry grinned.

"It was a gift," Ron explained, "And it's warm."

"Well," the seamstress looked around at their plain rooms and then looked back at them, eyebrows raised, "You'll have to tell me what you want, gentlemen."

"We're both partial to something that is plain, simply cut, not too flashy or fussy," Ron told her, "And Harry's voice is too weak for speech at the moment, so I'll answer for him, or he can write answers down for you."

This was a little invention of his own. He had a feeling that Harry would be called upon to speak a bit tonight, so they might as well save his voice as much as possible now. Madam Malkin's eyes lit up and Ron had the feeling that Harry's 'failing health' would be all over the Daily Prophet tomorrow along with whatever hysteria that the paper came up with after tonight. His partner wasn't sick, he was just a little run down after channelling so much raw power to get rid of Tom Riddle once and for all.

Madam Malkin had the assistants measure them both from stem to stern, and started unrolling sample swatches of material while Madam Pomfrey sat in one of their armchairs and watched with an eagle eye. Some of the patterns and colours on offer were interesting, but he could see that Harry was horrified by a few of their choices. His partner was getting restless, and Ron could see the matron was about to interfere rather aggressively on behalf of her patient.

/black brocade// Harry pointed out the fabric he'd spotted//we could look a little like Snape/

Ron laughed, shaking his head and pulling out the material Harry meant. It wasn't actually black, merely a blue so dark that it seemed black. The brocade was something that caught the light, sending little ripples of light along the surface. It felt rather nice to his touch and Harry approved it with a nod. Madam Malkin intervened at that point, asking if they would be dressed alike or differently.

"Alike," Ron looked over at Harry, "We might as well show the partnership in all things, at least for formal occasions."

Harry nodded, and Madam Malkin shifted restlessly, obviously curious, but not willing to risk Madam Pomfrey's wrath by drawing out the session with her questions. The seamstress and her assistants cut the cloth and shaped it into sets of flowing robes, with high necks, deep sleeves and a slightly stiff drape to the under robes. When they tried them on though, it enhanced Harry's pallor to the point he looked like a walking corpse. Ron shook his head vehemently - his Harry was dead sexy, not a walking corpse, and he wouldn't ask the man to wear anything that made him look like one.

"Now, now," the seamstress clucked, "We can change the colour to something that will look better on you both, dear."

Several colour changes later she was starting to look frustrated. No matter which colour they tried, they made one of them look very unhealthy, except for a shade of pink that they both refused to wear. Harry was looking tired and Ron was thoroughly ready to just go to the ceremony in his school uniform. Their dress robes had been thrown away after Madam Pomfrey had removed them, unfortunately torn and stained irreparably, otherwise he'd have worn them. Madam Malkin was twittering about trying patterns and paisley's next, which didn't sound too appealing.

Harry shook his head and sighed, reaching for Ron. The robes rustled as he moved, and framed the sexy body beneath in alluring, teasing lines of light. Ron joined his hands to Harry's willingly and felt the bond come slowly to life.

/Gryffindor colours/ Harry suggested and Ron nodded, concentrating on transfiguring the material, only altering its colour. Their robes fluttered in an invisible breeze and then settled. Harry was walking flame, red and gold swirled through the robes in a dramatic flare that enhanced his skin tone and warmed Ron's heart.

"Perfect!" Madam Malkin exclaimed, "In all my days I've never seen such an inspired pattern!"

"You like?" Harry whispered hoarsely and Ron nodded, admiring the flow of light along his partners' frame, picked up by the brocade itself. He winked at his partner and rubbed his fingers over Harry's wrist.

/you look utterly shaggable in that/ Ron smiled seductively. Harry blushed and ducked his head, grinning at his partner. The moment was broken when Madam Pomfrey insisted that Harry get back into bed and Madam Malkin magicked the robes onto stands by their armchairs. As far as Ron was concerned, that was a step in the right direction - he and Harry were left in their briefs and socks.

0oo0oo0

Harry took a deep breath and smiled at his excited spouse. They were standing in the Gryffindor players box, waiting for the doors to open. There was a crowd out there - he could hear them talking and moving - and he just knew that he was going to hate the next hour or so. If Fudge tried to drag it out longer than that, Harry was planning on fainting or hexing the Minister, whichever was easiest.

The pattern of flames on the robes they wore mirrored Ron's slender strength and seductive lines, the deep red and gold seeming to flicker and swirl even in the half-light. Harry leaned over and put a hand along Ron's jaw, turning his head enough for a slow chaste kiss.

"You're insatiable," Ron moaned, and Harry smiled, leaning in for one last brush of lips. Madam Pomfrey had left them alone, walking the seamstress and her assistants out, and Harry had lured Ron to their bed with a request to be held. Once horizontal, Harry manoeuvred them until the inevitable had happened and they'd gone to sleep in the afterglow, waking tangled together and content.

/only for you/ Harry promised and straightened when he heard music start and the whispers outside quieten//looks like we're on. Have I ever told you how much I hate the spotlight//

Ron looked at him closely, and Harry regretted the remark. He didn't want to cheapen this experience for his partner. Ron deserved the recognition, and Harry didn't really begrudge him it. Ron's fingers tightened on Harry's as the door opened and the dark haired boy was startled when they sung softly to him. He recognised the first lines from 'Green eyes' by Coldplay - the Muggle group that Ron had come to love over their last summer holidays.

/Harry, you are the rock, upon which I stand, when I come here to talk, I hope you understand, green eyes, yeah the spotlight, shines upon you, how could anybody deny you? I came here with a load, and it feels so much lighter, now I've met you, and Harry you should know, that I could never go on without you, green eyes…/

He almost laughed at the changed words, remembering not to at the last moment, squeezing Ron in silent warning of the retribution that was to come if he didn't knock it off. They walked up the hastily built stairs and onto the raised floor of the stadium, the crowd roaring in their ears. Fingers tangled, steps matching, they walked with grace and calm to stand beside the Minister, disengaging only long enough to shake his hand.

/your mum and dad are behind Fudge, to the right. I think I see your grandparents too/ Harry informed his partner, who looked and smiled at his family, his fingers ticking off everyone who had managed to come, pointing them out to Harry without pointing.

The school was also ranged along the stadium, the teachers in front and the students on the benches behind them. Everyone wore their school uniform, though the girls had done their hair up, and the teachers wore the ceremonial robes that were usually only seen at the Seventh Years Leaving Feast.

Harry tuned in to Fudge's speech and froze in disgust. The Minister was relating details of his past in a lead up - he assumed - to the death of Voldemort. The only problem was that Fudge was taking all the credit for his teachers and protectors work. Ron's fingers stroked in a soothing cadence, and Harry shot him a miserable look.

/I have an idea/ Ron promised//we can make it all better with one simple step. Fudge is up for re-election next year; his eight-year contract of service will be up. We can undo all his posturing with just one gesture/

Harry bit down on a grin and caressed his assent warmly over Ron's fingers. Ron was the grounded one, seeing to the heart of other people's actions quickly. The crowd was roaring with approval and he paid attention to Fudge again, noticing that the man was now reading from a double scroll. Harry could feel the magic that had been placed upon the parchments - charms to verify the truth of the contents, prevent tampering and any accidental damage.

The Minister let the scrolls roll back up and returned them to their elaborate holder. Each platinum tube was embossed with precious stones in the Ministry's official Seal. They were returned to the cushion they had been resting on and the Minister picked up the first of the medallions. Harry's fingers told Ron to step forward, to take the first honour, and his partner hesitated.

/I place you above all others/ Harry's fingers tapped firmly for emphasis and withdrew. He folded his hands into his sleeves and Ron sighed, stepping forward smoothly. As the Minister hadn't actually called Harry's name, he couldn't object, and Harry smiled up at his parents-in-law, watching their pride and joy overflow in happy tears as their youngest son received his award.

Then Ron was standing beside him, and Harry stepped forward, bending his head to let Fudge slip the chain over his neck, settling the medallion on his chest. He stepped back and reached for Ron.

/now/ Ron nodded. The Minister was standing to one side, beaming at them hopefully, and Harry paced forward with his partner to the edge of the stage, bringing them both directly in front of their teachers and their school. In one smooth flawless movement they placed their hands over their hearts and bowed deeply, showing the rest of the Wizarding world where their loyalties lay, and to whom they felt the most indebted.

When they stepped back into place, Fudge looked like he was trying to swallow a pineapple, sideways.

/perfect/ Harry's fingers purred//I married a genius/

/yeah, you did/

0oo0oo0

"… Mortified," Snape was saying as Ron led a drooping Harry towards the side room the teachers had retired to. If the Head of Slytherin meant his spouse, then the man was correct. Harry had hated the fuss and bother around them, only cheering up when they sunk Fudge's little propaganda fest at the award ceremony.

"As you have said many a time, Severus," Dumbledore sounded amused, "Harry and Ron are not saints."

Ron rapped on the open door and smiled when the teachers turned to look at them. The Headmaster's blue eyes were twinkling behind his half-moon glasses, and Ron grinned in response. He and Harry had removed their medallions and boxed them away carefully. The plan was for Dumbledore or McGonagall to keep them safe - a standard practice when a student unexpectedly came into possession of something valuable.

"We were hoping you would keep these for us, Headmaster," Ron said by way of explaining their presence, and held out the boxes. Dumbledore nodded and took the proffered items, opening them to look at the contents. Harry's fingers stroked his wrist in a gentle reminder.

"And we wanted to say thank you. We know who put all the hard work into our training, despite what Fudge seemed to think. Without your lessons we wouldn't have survived."

Harry bent down and hugged Flitwick, in absence of adding his voice to Ron's. The Head of Ravenclaw patted his back affectionately, and Ron smiled. Harry had wanted to do something to indicate his gratitude, but when Ron suggested a handshake his partner had thought it a little impersonal. After all they'd been shaking hands all night until Dumbledore sent the students to bed. He and Harry had gone as a matter of course, much to Fudge's dismay, though the party would probably go on for hours.

Professor McGonagall got a hug and kiss, and Dumbledore embraced Ron's spouse heartily. Snape stiffened when Harry approached him, but it didn't deter the green-eyed young man from hugging their irascible potions master. Snape's arms apparently crept around Harry of their own volition.

"Five points from Gryffindor," Snape muttered when Harry let go and Ron grinned. Professor McGonagall sniffed and muttered under her own breath, probably adding the points back on, and then leaned in to look carefully at the clasps on their outer robes.

"Gryffindor lions?" she touched the silver and gold clasp. Harry nodded and gestured to their robes as well, smiling when comprehension flashed in her eyes. They wore their House colours deliberately.

"You should probably take those magnificent robes off and hand them over to Dobby for cleaning and proper storage," Dumbledore suggested, "Why don't you go into the boys toilet down the hall, and I'll have him meet you there with dressing gowns."

Ron gave the Headmaster a smile of thanks and said goodnight to everyone. Harry trudged along with him, holding Ron's hand. Dobby was already there and five minutes later Ron was supporting Harry up the stairs, ignoring his partners' silent protests of health and independence. Wrestler let them in with a cheerful 'good night' and the common room was still crowded with students.

"About time you two got here," Dean grinned from his comfortable lounge, "Can't have a victory party without the victors."

Ron felt Harry cheer up a bit and grinned back. They could do with a friendly party to wash away the tediousness of the one downstairs. Hermione cut things short, though, not giving them time for more than a quick drink and a few jokes. As the majority of people were already tired and full from the prior party, no one protested too much and went to bed without fuss.

Harry was dead to the world by the time Ron climbed into bed, and he wrapped himself around the other man tenderly. The next thing he knew, Harry was pulling away, sunlight was streaming in through their window, and his partner was rushing for the nearest loo.

Ron climbed out of bed, found their dressing gowns and slippers, grabbed the glass of water they kept on the dresser for Harry's sore throat and a flannel and headed after his partner. Harry was heaving rather vigorously, and Ron sighed in sympathy, wetting the flannel and wiping it over the back of Harry's neck. When the other man had finished hurling, Ron flushed the toilet - the smell wasn't at all pleasant and wouldn't help Harry's stomach to settle - and handed the glass of water over. Once his friend had finished rinsing and spitting Ron washed his face and hands and helped him put on the dressing gown and slippers.

"Come on, we're going straight to Madam Pomfrey," Ron decided, "You can skip breakfast."

"No," the hoarse whisper had Ron wincing in sympathy. He kissed chapped lips and stroked his thumbs over Harry's temples. His glasses were back in the dorm, and would stay there today. He didn't intend for his partner to do any work at all while under the school matrons' care.

"Please," he whispered, putting his forehead to Harry's, "For me?"

Harry nodded reluctantly and Ron helped him up. He murmured words of love and encouragement as they walked slowly to the hospital wing, hoping that whatever Madam Pomfrey had in mind for today would do the trick.

0oo0oo0

"What did Madam Pomfrey say, Ron?" Hermione asked as Ron joined her at breakfast. He helped himself to kippers and tried to smile for her. He had a pretty good idea that it didn't help when she threw her arms around him and hugged him close.

Last night his mother had pulled him aside while his dad and the twins fussed over Harry and asked what the hell was going on. Her sharp eyes had seen through the front Harry was projecting, and the fact that he really hadn't regained his voice at all hadn't helped. He'd promised to keep her updated and informed her that Harry was spending the next day under Madam Pomfrey's care. She'd nodded and gone to hug her son-in-law, rescuing him from the twins' exuberant questions.

"I can go get him after tea tonight," Ron sighed into her shoulder, "Why won't he get better, Hermy?"

"Give it time," Hermione soothed, "I'm sure Madam Pomfrey will figure something out today."

Malfoy plonked down next to Ron and Lavender and Parvati took the empty seat opposite. Ron let go of his friend and addressed himself to his breakfast before it got cold. Hermione's newspaper arrived, touting itself as a 'Souvenir Issue'. There was a rather good shot of Harry and Ron together, standing at the top of the stairs that led from the Gryffindor players box to the floating stage.

"Two timing Harry already?" Lavender sniffed as Ron leaned into Hermione's space to get a better look. He didn't even bother to answer that. Mistress Brown was approaching a nasty fall if she didn't get her shrewish tendencies under control. Ron raised his head slowly, a scowl on his face. He and Harry had dropped the I-am-not-here charm when they were getting dressed for last night. Their wedding bands were clearly visible to anyone who looked. Obviously she hadn't bothered. He held his left hand up so she could see the warm circle of metal that pulsed along to Harry's life force.

"We were married in January, a few friends and family attended," Ron told her, realising that the whole table was watching avidly, "We'd satisfied the _fidelity annum_ requirement for Wizards in their majority by then."

"Yet you dated Hannah and Susan!" Parvati gaped, "You used them!"

"No we didn't," Ron sighed, "Susan and Hannah are friends of ours. They knew that we were not interested in dating them at all, and they agreed to come to the Ball with us as friends."

He didn't want to out the other couple, it wasn't his place to do that, but if Lavender didn't back off soon, then Hannah and Susan would be facing some rather uncomfortable questions. He was saved from the dilemma of how to steer the questions away from their erstwhile 'dates' when Susan herself came over and leaned down to kiss his cheek. From the look in her eyes, she'd evidently heard what Lavender was whining on about and come over to rescue him. The irony did not escape him - he and Harry could face down the most evil Wizard of their time, but they couldn't bring a gossip in their own House to heel.

"Sod off, Lavender," Susan said over Ron's shoulder, "Hannah and I are a couple and we used the boys as cover."

"It was Harry's idea," Hannah added from just behind Hermione, "They didn't want to hurt the feelings of anyone who thought they had a chance at a romance with them, and we didn't want to run the risk of a couple of guys getting the wrong idea."

Ron could feel Malfoy's fascination with the whole scene and wondered if the blonde Slytherin was going to be reporting this to… Ron's thoughts came to an abrupt halt. Even if Malfoy had been reporting their actions to his father, Lucius was now dead and the Death Eaters reduced to a small rabble hiding in remote locales. It would be disloyal to the school to treat Malfoy as a spy now. There was no one for him to report to, and ingrained habits were hard to break. Besides, Malfoy had not mentioned his son to Voldemort at all - some other woman had talked about her son the spy.

"Let's not argue," Hermione said briskly, recalling Ron to the present. Lavender and Parvati were openly sulking and Ron sighed. They'd just have to get over it in their own time, and meanwhile he would concentrate on getting Harry back to his usual self.

The day seemed three times as long as usual to Ron, who only wanted to see his partner and hear from Madam Pomfrey that he was going to be just fine. If Harry couldn't be cured here then his partner would be sent to St Mungo's, where Petunia Dursley still slept. Ron wouldn't be able to see his partner except on weekends. His fellow students seemed to understand his worry - Harry's absence hadn't gone unnoticed, and Professor Trelawny had made a few predictions during her lesson that afternoon that had Ron itching to hex her. By the time tea rolled around, Ron's appetite was non-existent, and Beth ended up sitting next to him and urging him to eat in a maternal tone. Ginny was on his other side, lending silent support. Harry was her brother now too, and Ron whispered a promise to tell her what was going on the first moment he had free. Hermione walked him to the hospital wing and hugged him outside the doors, before hurrying away.

Madam Pomfrey was waiting, and Harry was curled up asleep in a bed near her office, surrounded by tall screens for privacy. The school matron let him peek at his partner and then ushered him into her office, putting him in a seat and settling opposite. Ron had the worst case of butterflies that he'd ever had in his life, and couldn't work up enough spit to ask her what was wrong with his partner.

"First of all, Professor Snape's potions weren't working effectively because of the vomiting and Harry's current hormonal levels. I was forced to use a more direct series of spells to heal the last of the damage to his throat, but he now has his voice back and all discomfort has ceased. If I'd known he was that uncomfortable to begin with I'd have ignored his wishes to allow Professor Snape's potions more time. You will never, ever, allow him to hide symptoms from a Healer ever again," she glared at him, and Ron nodded, glad that her oaths as a Healer prevented her from acting on her desire to mete out a painful punishment, and relieved he'd be hearing Harry's voice again without having to wince in sympathetic pain.

"Secondly," Madam Pomfrey's glare eased up and she smiled, an expression so unexpected that Ron's head spun in shock, "The reason Harry has been so run down since… you know what… was a very happy bit of news. He informed me of your wedding in January, and tests have proven conclusively to me the cause of Harry's hormonal imbalance."

Ron resisted the urge to shriek at her to just get on with it, his hands turning into fists in his lap. The matron noticed and leaned over to pat them gently, her smile widening even further.

"Harry is seven weeks _withchild_, Ron, and you are the father."

He puzzled over the strange term that the matron had used, until he remembered that male pregnancies were usually called _withchild_, the literal combination of the two words with and child.

0oo0oo0

Harry was woken from a deep sleep by kisses and shaking fingers stroking his face and shoulders. As Ron was the only person that was allowed to kiss him awake, Harry smiled as he opened sleep heavy eyes. The smile turned to a frown when he realised that Ron had tears on his face. He reached up for his partner, tugging to get Ron to climb onto the bed with him. Ron climbed up willingly, hugging Harry to him ecstatically.

"You spoke to Poppy?" Harry murmured sleepily, realising that Ron was happy-upset, not sad. Ron nodded and went back to kissing him, an activity that Harry could participate in wholeheartedly. He felt much better after a day in Madam Pomfrey's care, especially since she had managed to give him a series of treatments that meant that his sleep was actually restful for a change. For the first time in the past fortnight Harry wasn't running hard just to stay in place - or that's how it felt.

"Oh Harry, I can't believe it," Ron pulled away, while still hugging him tightly, "Are you… is it ok? I mean we were going to wait, and I know that…and… are you happy? Do you want them? I mean…"

"Shhh," Harry soothed his spouse tenderly, "I'm happy. The moment she told me I wanted them. You know I wanted us to have a family of our own."

He'd been blown away by the news at first - mainly because the idea of a male pregnancy was so foreign to everything he'd ever learned. Once he'd had a chance to think about it, and the matrons' potions had taken effect, he'd been over the moon. With his voice restored, he'd asked hundreds of questions, exhausting himself in his quest for understanding. The matron had reassured him that he hadn't inadvertently hurt his children in the battle with Voldemort, and then made sure he ate a hearty dinner. Harry had fallen asleep before the empty tray could be removed.

"Them?" Ron blinked, "What…?"

"Didn't she tell you?" Harry wriggled until he had Ron's hand, which he used to shove the blankets down until it could be placed over the warmth in his belly. He'd been feeling that ever since Madam Pomfrey had brought it to his attention, and his hand had basked in that simple sign of the life he carried. Ron was shaking his head, his eyes widening in wonder as Harry used the bond to bring the warmth to his spouse's attention.

"Triplets," Harry laughed as Ron started and almost fell off the bed, grabbing his spouse and hanging on until he'd regained his balance, "Your mum and dad are meeting us in Professor Dumbledore's office tomorrow night so we can tell them."

"Triplets?" Ron gaped at him and then wormed his way down the bed to press his face to the warmth that was bathing his hand, "Three?"

Harry stroked the red hair and let Ron wrap his mind around the idea. He'd had all afternoon between naps to get used to the idea; it was only fair to let Ron have some time as well. Madam Pomfrey cleared her throat and Ron sat up reluctantly, hopping off the bed and letting her wave her wand over Harry.

"Right, Potter," she smiled at him kindly enough, and he began to think she might just forgive him for not giving her the full story the very first time he felt unwell, "You're to come and see me first thing in the morning for the next two weeks until I'm sure that you're back to normal. Then it will be fortnightly check ups. The morning sickness will pass soon, and your teachers already know about your condition, so they'll be sure to keep you out of harms way in lessons. No more Quidditch, though you can fly for as long as you're comfortable astride a broom."

"Yes, ma'am," Harry sat up as she reiterated the instructions she'd given him once the full diagnosis had been made, "Thank you."

"Off you go, and make sure he has a meal, Mr Weasley, he slept through tea. I'll send Dobby along to your room," she started removing the screens and Harry shrugged his dressing gown on. Ron was still floating along in a blissful daze and Harry had to lead him out of the hospital wing. Hermione was lurking beside Wrestler with Ginny, and Harry hugged them, whispering that it was 'good news' in their ears.

0oo0oo0

Ron came back to his surroundings in their room, and immediately ushered Harry to the bed, glaring sternly when Harry protested quietly.

"You've got the first real colour in cheeks for weeks, and I'm not having it fade out because you're being stubborn," Ron scolded, "I've been too lax about your health, lover, and it's going to change."

"Oh god, he's gone mad," Harry groaned, subsiding onto the pile of pillows Ron had arranged for him and glaring up at his friend. Ron didn't care. They'd been very lucky - both Harry and their unborn children were going to recover from the strain they'd been forced to endure and Ron was not going to let Harry lift so much as a finger for the next seven months.

"Ron," Ginny grabbed him and pulled him away from where he was fussing with a blanket that Harry immediately kicked off, sitting up and frowning at him, "Stop it. What's wrong with you?"

"He's _withchild_!" Ron yelled at her, "We almost lost him because I can't keep it in my pants!"

The silence that followed that little outburst was startled to say the least and Ron flushed. He hadn't meant to announce their good fortune like this and Ginny was gaping at him in total shock. Hermione had to think about it for a moment to figure out the unusual term, and then flushed red - doubtless from suddenly having more information than she'd ever wanted about their sex lives and Harry lost it, laughing hard and falling back on the pillows.

"It t-takes t-twoooo," the green-eyed maniac spluttered between uncontrolled bouts of laughter. Ginny ducked her head and bit her lips. Harry's laughter was infectious to say the least and it took a stronger person than Ron to resist it. He could feel his own lips twitching and sank down onto the bed, his hand coming to rest on Harry's ankle as chuckles escaped his lips.

Hermione and Ginny joined in, a relieved edge to their laughter. When Harry calmed down he rearranged the pillows and sat up, beckoning for the girls to join them on the bed and tugging to get Ron up to his side, catching a hand and draping it over the warmth that seemed to emanate from his belly. Ron sighed and put his head on Harry's shoulder, basking in the knowledge for a long moment.

"You shit," he mumbled, "If you think you're going to get around me…"

"Pet," Harry sighed, "You know I won't. But you can't put me in a glass bubble on a shelf. Madam Pomfrey knows what she's doing."

"Perhaps you should start again," Hermione suggested from where she lounged with Ginny and Ron turned his head just enough to look at them. Harry was warm and smelled good, and wasn't dying; therefore Ron wasn't inclined to let go.

"There are two ways for a Wizard to get _withchild_," Ron told her, "One is for their partner to cast a fertility spell on them during… the act, and the other is for a couple to… you know… on something called a ley line."

"I've heard of them! Even Muggles know about ley lines. It's magical energy running in bands around the earth that affects the things around it," Hermione looked relieved to finally hear something that she understood. Ginny was also looking interested, and Ron guessed that their mum hadn't included this information in her little talk about safe sex. His dad had handled the boys' talks, and had been bluntly informative about both methods of coupling, much to Ron's silent embarrassment at the time.

"The ley line picks up on the activity, and the wish of the two people involved, or the two anything actually, for children to come from the… union," Ron continued awkwardly, his face red, "It makes the… one receiving… fertile… and things go on from there."

"On our wedding night, Ron and I consummated the nuptials under the tree where dad bound us," Harry shrugged the shoulder Ron was resting on and he complained softly, "Madam Pomfrey thinks that there is a ley line running beneath the tree. Actually, that explains the twins, Ron. If your parents had sex under there twice in one…"

"I don't want to hear the rest of that!" Ginny clapped her hands over her ears and Harry blushed, subsiding into the pillows and muttering an apology. Ron snickered and leaned up to kiss him, nuzzling his cheek when their lips parted and putting his head back on Harry's shoulder.

"So you're having twins?" Hermione guessed and Ron spluttered, realising just what the answer would tell her about their sex life. Harry stretched sensuously and smiled at her. He must have picked up that expression on his face from the twins, Ron mused, because that was the look they used when they were about to answer a question you shouldn't have asked.

"Triplets," his tone was supremely satisfied, "And we're lucky that we weren't too keen to stay out in the cold…"

"I don't want to hear the rest of that, either!" Ginny squealed and Ron laughed, sitting up as the door to the elf tunnel opened and Dobby emerged with a tray. The elf had included four cups of tea and a plate of scones for them all, as well as fruit and sandwiches for Harry. Once the elf's congratulations had run their course and they were alone again, Hermione cleared her throat a little and shifted her tea from one hand to the other.

"Uh, no offence, but how will you actually…" she trailed off, but Ron understood what she meant. There wouldn't be many books in the library about this, and the few that were there she would have had no reason to read. He had no doubt that she'd be in there first thing tomorrow morning, searching them out, but in the meantime had to rely on what information they could give her.

"Well," Ron sighed, "The magic involved is pretty powerful. It creates a small conduit from the body of the bearer to a pocket of… non-space. Through the conduit the bearer passes all the nutrients and stuff the baby needs to grow, and once the baby is born it disappears immediately. This puts a lot of strain on the bearer though, and the casting we did to get rid of old Tom made things worse. Harry's body was dangerously off balance, which is why he didn't recover properly from the casting. He'll be seeing Madam Pomfrey every day for the next two weeks to take a lot of potions to help balance things out and stop the morning sickness. At the right time the magic will even create a birth canal for the baby to be born."

"How do you know all this stuff?" Ginny asked, gaping at him. He grimaced and rolled his eyes at her, shifting so that Harry could reach the plate of fruit. His spouse had eaten four sandwiches, but the plate kept refilling, so Ron didn't push for him to eat more. The fruit was Harry's favourite thing anyway - when his appetite was poor, Ron could always coax Harry into eating a piece of fruit.

"Dad," he told his sister, "He did the 'safe sex' thing for all of us boys, and when he found out I was marrying Harry he pulled me aside for the baby talk too."

"Yoicks," Ginny shook her head and then grinned, "I'd love to have seen that!"

"Will you get f… a belly?" typically, Hermione ignored the byplay in search of answers, and Harry nodded to her. Ron knew that Madam Pomfrey would have informed him thoroughly, and that Harry probably had a thousand questions for her anyway.

"A little one, not as big as a girl would. And before you ask, no I won't grow breasts," Harry blushed and bit into the banana he held. Hermione laughed, probably at the thought of Harry with breasts, and Ron kissed his partners cheek. His fingers caressed the reassurance that Harry needed to hear onto a hip, and Harry smiled in relief.

/I'll love you no matter what. You're stuck with me, Potter/

0oo0oo0

His in-laws had been and gone, enthusiastically accepting the good news. He was feeling a lot better too, though that was mainly due to Madam Pomfrey and her medicines. At least he was able to keep his breakfast down now, and Dobby was supplying him with as much fruit as he could possibly eat, as well as other simple foods. Fortunately someone - probably Hermione or Ginny - had circulated the rumour that the different foods were part of a diet set by the school matron. No one had questioned him about it so far, and he hoped that would continue.

Harry watched his first years competently weave in and out of the course he had designed for them. They were nearly at the end of term now, and he was starting to find flying a little uncomfortable, though his belly had expanded only a little. He had hidden that little fact by making his robes bigger. The baggy fabric hid the slight swell, and next term he would use glamour charms that Flitwick had shown him.

Beth Dunn had tried out for the position of Seeker and Harry was helping Ginny and Ron train her in the evenings. Truth told, Harry had the feeling that he would be grateful to have the extra time away from Quidditch practices as the NEWT's approached. Things were already hectic, and he and Ron would be returning to History of Magic next term as their teaching duties would be finished.

"Parker! Mind that tree!" Harry shouted to his hesitant flyer as the boy came a little too close to the Whomping Willow. Parker avoided it gracefully and Harry sighed in relief. He did not want to have to explain to anyone how one of his students had damaged the 'valuable tree that had been on the grounds since before he was born' as Snape had once yelled at him and Ron. Granted, they'd crashed a car into it, but still…

The last of his students cleared the course and Harry sent his broom back to the ground. He dismissed his class and shouldered his own broom, locking the shed door and heading up to the castle.

He spotted Neville and an owl in the foyer and grinned, hurrying to catch up with his friend. Neville was still waiting to hear from his Grandmother if he could accompany Harry and Ron to Potters Field for the Easter holidays to plant the garden that he had designed. With a bit of luck this would be the answer.

"Well?" Harry asked eagerly as Neville looked up from the letter. It was definitely his grandmothers' owl - the bird was spearing him with a very fierce glare, much the way Mrs Longbottom had.

"I can come," Neville said happily, "Gran said she'd send us a hamper, too. She knows I can't cook."

Harry laughed and clapped Neville on the shoulder. He'd learned to cook the Muggle way, but this holiday he was planning to try it the Wizarding way. Molly's gifts to him when he was sixteen were about to get a lot of use.

"I've got some books you can borrow," Harry promised, "In fact, I'll be learning too."

"It will be like old times!" Neville grinned, "Only this time we won't be learning life or death skills."

"Have you tasted Ron's cooking?" Harry shuddered mock seriously, "I think it's worse than Hagrid's. That makes it pretty much life or death as far as I'm concerned."

0oo0oo0


	17. Term 3, 7th year

****

Further warnings: A bit of Fudge, anyone? Oh, and Draco in a sheath skirt… Heh heh heh.

****

Sympathetic Magic: Part Nine - Seventh Year - Term Three

Ron smiled at the picture his spouse made. Cheeks flushed with sleep, dark hair mussed, hands curled up near his chin, and slow even breaths all showed Harry was completely relaxed and dead sexy. He was curled on his side, one head on a cushion, his long legs tucked up in the crochet throw that had been draped over the back of the couch. Ron recognised his grandmother's work, as he had in the curtains that were draped at each window, the rag rugs in the downstairs kitchen, dining room and laundry, and the handsome sets of plain bed linen and curtains on the four-poster bed upstairs. Both his grandfathers had made items of furniture throughout the house - handiwork was something that the whole Weasley family was known for, in his Dad it came out in the tinkering with Muggle artefacts - and the various tables, chairs, stools and beds had clearly been made by his grandparents. His brothers and sisters had gone in together to buy them the couch that Harry was currently asleep on - an overstuffed monstrosity that must have been a nightmare to move - as well as the matching armchairs and twin couch that occupied the front room. If Ginny hadn't decided at the last minute to visit with one of her friends instead of 'slaving in her brothers garden', Ron would have thanked her for the gift.

He didn't care about the furniture, though christening their bed that first night and each night after had been extremely rewarding. What he cared about was that Harry's face finally showed signs of good health. Hermione came in to see where they were and lingered next to him, smiling down at the innocent sleeper.

"He looks so…" she trailed off and sniffed a little, heading back out through the libraries French doors to the front garden and the bed they were laying today. Ron frowned and headed after her, leaving the door open so the warm breeze could brush through the room. Neville was still inside the house somewhere, so Ron caught her arm and tugged her around to look her in the eye.

"What's wrong?" he asked, bewildered by the sad expression he saw lingering there. Hermione glanced at the open doors that were airing the house after it had been shut for a term. Ron tugged her over to sit under the birch tree where he and Harry had camped only last summer.

"Tell me," he insisted once they were settled, "Harry's not sick, Hermione, so why are you so upset?"

"It's… he's so fragile," Hermione sighed and Ron snorted without thinking. His Harry, fragile? Harry was the strongest, stubbornest, sexiest survivor Ron knew.

"He's not," Ron shook his head, "He's had a rough time the last two years - he lost the last of his family, and had a pretty big surprise dumped on his shoulders. Sure, he's killed Tom Riddle and the strain of it all, coupled with being _withchild_ dragged him down for a while, but Hermy, think for a minute. If it was you, or me, or Nev, would we have survived?"

"Probably not," she admitted reluctantly, and he nodded, rubbing her arm gently. He could feel her relaxing a little and shifted so he was hugging her with one arm. He hadn't realised, in his worry for Harry before they knew exactly what was going on, that the rest of their friends were just as worried.

"Ok, so it's two in the afternoon and he's kipping on the couch," he grinned at the memory, "But there's colour in his cheeks, he's in no pain or discomfort, and when he gets up he'll be as energetic as ever."

Hermione nodded and leaned into the hug. Neville came out the front door and spotted them, chuckling and saying 'oh ho!' lightly. Hermione shook her head and got up, going to kiss the teasing Neville on the cheek and grabbing her gardening gloves from the wheelbarrow. Ron grinned and followed them, wanting to get the front garden finished today.

They'd arrived at the house early on Saturday and Neville had arranged with a nursery to deliver their plants on the following Monday. Harry and Ron had spent the time exploring the house with their guests, just as curious as their friends were. They hadn't seen the furniture that the family had given them for wedding presents, and Ron had been very impressed with how well the various styles had mixed and matched. The colours were everything from muted greens to vibrant yellow, with every shade between. The handmade items made Potters Field feel a little like the Burrow; they spoke of family, care and comfort.

Ron had taken Neville and Hermione in turns to the village on the bike to collect the gardening implements they needed and food for the house. The three of them had ganged up on Harry to make him lie down in the library with a book, and the green-eyed man had gone to sleep fairly quickly. Madam Pomfrey had warned all three of them that Harry would get drowsy and tired, partly from the pregnancy, partly from the potions that she insisted he take daily. The three of them had sort of made an agreement without words that Harry would nap and rest as much as possible.

On Sunday they'd attacked the garden, digging up the weeds and marking out the beds under Neville's exacting instructions. They'd snuck out that night to use magic to clear the beds properly and start the compost pile that Neville insisted they have for the vegetables. Neville had selected a mixture of Muggle and Wizard plants to be companion planted. The plants would almost tend to the needs of each other, the by-products of one plant nurturing the other. Herbs and flowers of various sorts, all very useful in cooking and potions making, would take up the front garden, with the climbing roses encouraged each night to grow a little faster over the bare walls of the house, as well as the box hedge along the stone wall at the front. The fragrance would be wonderful in spring and summer. They also had a lot of cuttings to grow in the conservatory during the winter so they could replant each spring. Harry had set up the conservatory according to Neville's strict instructions while the others did the heavy work. He wasn't allowed to lift anything except with magic, and potting the seedlings was work he could do sitting on a tall stool. Ron both appreciated, and approved heartily of Neville's dictatorial decisions there.

"Ron!" Neville called, "Are you awake?"

"Yeah, sorry Nev," Ron replied, shaking loose from his thoughts and grabbing for the wheelbarrow for the next load of fertilizer - a mixture of dragon dung and blood and bone. He knew he had a stupid grin on his face, but didn't care. He was happy, Harry was healthy, they were going to be parents and they had the rest of their lives ahead of them. Who could blame him?

0oo0oo0

Harry could hear his spouse and his friends laughing lightly, the sound of tools and effort floating through the open French doors. He was warm and comfortable, and feeling faintly guilty that he'd spent the afternoon asleep on the couch, yet at the same time it was such a luxury to know that for the first time outside of Hogwarts he was home and safe, that the guilt had no chance to develop into anything more than a faint feeling. He knew that his friends had been worried, and had decided to give in to their demands of him easily, for now. He wouldn't be coddled at school, no matter what Ron thought.

He stirred and stretched lazily, sitting up slowly and tugging the throw off his legs, standing up with a yawn to tuck it back over the couch. The wool was warm and had been a comforting weight on his legs during his nap, and he made a mental note to thank Grandmother the moment he saw her. She had been a fierce eyed woman, whose gaze had swept him from head to toe at the Weasley's New Year gathering, before folding him into a surprisingly tender embrace and kissing his cheek. She'd held his hand and called him child all night, and even the twins hadn't dared tease him about it. Molly's mother was as formidable as she was, and Harry could see flashes of her in Ron. Harry hadn't told his partner that - he liked his balls where they were, thank you - and was looking forward to seeing it develop with their own children.

A glance at the clock above the mantle - a Muggle one from the Grangers, the Wizard one from Remus was downstairs in the kitchen - showed that it would be teatime soon. They'd had sandwiches at dinner, and it would only be fair that he cooked them a decent meal for tea. Besides, he'd been itching to try some new recipes ever since he'd found the kitchen well stocked, with a shelf built for his ever-growing collection of recipe books.

Harry smiled involuntarily at the sight of his kitchen, feeling ridiculously pleased that he had somewhere to practice a new skill that didn't involve hurting or protecting anyone. His wand was on the shelf with the recipes and he picked it up absently, pulling down the first book and flicking through it. He reached over and flicked on the small stereo that he and Ron had bought last summer, tuning it with one hand when it squealed with static.

Twenty minutes later he'd planned the menu and was chopping salad vegetables while eggs and potatoes boiled in separate saucepans and four steaks sizzled slowly in a pan. The oven was warming and Harry was watching the ingredients of the cake stirring themselves in the bowl beside him. A wave of his wand set the table and put the salad bowl in place with a sealing charm on it to keep the contents fresh.

He prepared the cake tin - this was a Muggle recipe and the weighing of ingredients had reminded him somewhat of the preparations for potions, in fact he'd used a scale similar to the one they used in potions - and poured the mixture in, licking a batter covered finger absently as he spun the tin to get the air bubbles to settle. The cake went in the oven and the potatoes were tested quickly before he started making the icing while the sink started washing up under his direction, leaving him to clean the counters so they were gleaming again and humming along to the Muggle radio station that he'd settled on.

Once the potatoes were done he roughly chopped them and added them to a bowl with the chopped eggs, a handful of herbs and flicked his wand to produce the sour cream dressing he needed. He mixed the potato salad magically, sealed it and placed it on the table; heading upstairs when he heard Ron and the others come in.

"Hey there!" Ron was covered in dirt; sun kissed and smelt of dragon dung. Harry grinned at him affectionately and stepped back when Ron stepped forward for a hug. His spouse pouted blatantly while Hermione and Neville headed upstairs to clean up.

"You're filthy!" Harry warned him off, "Go wash up."

"Typical, you just married me for my gardening skills," Ron sighed heavily and Harry laughed. Ron was not known for his high marks in Herbology - like Harry, he was a fair student, but not brilliant like Neville.

"I can assure you, I didn't," he said sincerely, "Now go wash up. Tea will be ready by the time you get done, and there's cake for pudding."

"You cooked?" Ron grinned very happily, his stomach growling. It was Harry's turn to pout, folding his arms over his chest. Ron's growth spurts still hadn't stopped, though he was as tall as his father now and still so slender and sexy. It wouldn't do for his partner to know just what libidinous and dirty thoughts were running through his mind right now, though he'd be sure to share them once their guests had gone to bed.

"You only married me for my cooking skills," he mocked, and Ron snorted, stole a quick kiss and ran up the stairs, his reply floating over his shoulder as he did, making Harry laugh in genuine amusement for the lie.

"You bet!"

0oo0oo0

"Well helloooo lover," Ron purred as Harry's fingers teased him awake, "Feeling frisky dear?"

"Mmhmm," Harry's mouth engulfed him and Ron moaned, his bones turning to jelly. An hour later they woke again, a good deal more sticky. Ron kissed his spouse tenderly and stroked the be-whiskered jaw with loving fingers.

"You're the best thing in my life," Ron told him, "I'm lucky to have you."

Harry's eyes widened and he hid in Ron's neck for a moment, the back of his neck flushing red. Ron wondered what had made him say such a spectacularly sappy thing to his partner and stroked over warm skin idly until Harry had it back together again. Ron tried not to overwhelm Harry with protestations of love and loyalty, not wanting to smother him in attention. He preferred to woo his spouse gently, showing how he felt with the little things in life. Given that Harry had been affection starved for most of his life, too much attention made him uneasy, and Ron didn't ever want to make him feel stifled.

"Of course," Ron salvaged the moment as best he could, "I'd be even luckier if you were going to make those pancakes again."

Harry snorted into his shoulder and sat up, rumpled and sticky, slapping Ron's chest lightly. He was glowing this morning, and Ron grinned up at him, frankly admiring in his gaze. He sighed and hauled himself out of the bed, knowing that if he kept looking he'd want to start touching, and that would lead to fondling and sucking and nibbling and other things that would lead to them being late. This was their first time as hosts in their own home and they both wanted to be good to their guests.

They shared the bathroom, trading off on shaving and showering, heading downstairs before their guests got up, to make breakfast together. They were planning to work on the raised beds around the rear courtyard today, planting the flowering groundcover and roses that Neville had told them would be best. Their friend had a definite look in mind for their garden, and Ron was planning to make sure that there were plenty of before, during, and after photos for Neville to display in his curriculum vitae. Their friend had mentioned that Professor Sprout was encouraging him to try for a job in the Royal Gardens next year - there were several greenhouses that were devoted to Wizarding plants and Neville had been very enthused about it all.

Hermione appeared just as the first pancakes hit the plates, and Ron listened as Harry teased her about her timing while he buttered toast. The Muggle radio was on, and Harry danced her to her seat, placing a plate in front of her as Neville came down the stairs. There was a hoot at the open half door and Ron turned as Neville gestured to it.

"That's not Hedwig," their friend frowned and Ron watched Harry go to take the message from the owl. It hooted and flew away before the dark haired man could offer it water or an owl treat. Harry read the outside of the message, broke the seal and walked back into the kitchen while he read, not too worried about the contents. He frowned and sighed, handing the letter to Ron while starting the next lot of pancakes.

"Aunt Petunia is awake," Harry told their guests while Ron read through the letter, "St Mungo's wants me to come down and talk to her."

"You should go straight after breakfast," Hermione said from the table, "Neville and I will clean up the dishes."

"Perhaps you should take the day off," Ron glanced at Neville, "Relax, maybe go into the village for a look around. It doesn't seem right to ask you to keep working on the garden when we're not here."

"I don't mind," Neville smiled at them, "But if you want a day off, Hermione we could probably find something to do."

"Sure," Hermione nodded easily and Ron stopped the comment on the tip of his tongue just in time. Not everyone was as sex obsessed as he was right now. From the knowing glance Harry shot him, his little near slip hadn't gone unnoticed.

"We should be back by tea," Harry turned away from the stove, depositing a stack of pancakes on Neville's plate and waving his wandless hand to send the plate to the table. Hermione shook her head and muttered something about 'show offs', and Ron grinned at his spouse. They were both becoming a lot more proficient in the kitchen, though Harry was the acknowledged master chef of their marriage. Ron took the toast to the table and came back to steal a light kiss and a quick cuddle. The day had started well, and he was hoping it would finish well too.

0oo0oo0

Harry stepped away from the Apparation point and waited for Ron to arrive, looking around the lobby of St Mungo's for any sign of Dudley. He spotted his cousin standing in the line for the receptionist, Professor Sinistra beside him. Their Astronomy Professor had continued to collect Dudley once a week for his visits to his mother, and Harry had thanked her on numerous occasions for it. He'd been planning to take over the duty for her, but she had refused the offer, stating that she didn't mind the journey and Dudley was perfectly polite to her.

His cousin had continued to lose the enormous amount of excess weight that he'd once carried, and had slimmed down to a carefully sculpted body that spoke of much effort in the gymnasium and a rigid training schedule. Harry knew that he continued to box, as Professor Sinistra had told him about Dudley entering in a school championship, and the physique his cousin was now sporting was undoubtedly a testament to his continued sporting prowess. Ron had insisted that they go back upstairs and change into Wizarding clothes before heading to the hospital, ensuring that Harry's slightly swollen waistline was carefully hidden in billowing fabric.

Harry could see his spouse's point - they didn't want either of the Muggles to lose their grip at the sight of a slightly _withchild_ Harry. He really didn't want to have to explain the whole thing to either of them, it would be hard enough to explain his marriage should they notice the wedding bands. Harry had flat out refused to hide his wedding band again, and had forbidden Ron to hide his either. The Wizarding world had accepted their marriage, and his cousin and aunt weren't likely to notice.

"Hello, Dudley," Harry greeted his cousin politely, "You're looking well."

"So are you," Dudley stared at him in astonishment while Ron made polite small talk with their teacher. Harry heard his friend offer to take Dudley back to school after his visit was finished, and she agreed with a little persuasion that they could manage the transfer without any strain to the bond or Harry. Harry wondered what Dudley was seeing, his brief glance in the mirror before they left had showed that his robes were in place and done up properly.

"Thanks," Harry turned to the Witch behind the counter with a smile and asked after his Aunt. She blinked in recognition, looked for his partner, then smiled and gave him directions easily, reaching out to touch his hand where it rested on the counter. He smiled back, thanked her politely and led Dudley in the right direction, Ron moving to his other side.

"Was she flirting with you?" Ron asked in amusement, and Harry shook his head.

"No, just very happy to see me," he sighed, "And she kept peering past Dudley to look at you, so shut it."

"What's going on?" Dudley asked tersely. Evidently he had picked up on the Witches attitude, but wasn't up to date with the current events, "Is that… evil Wizard after you again?"

"Harry and I killed him a few months ago and his followers are being rounded up as we speak," Ron butted in, before Harry could, "He won't be bothering you or your mother ever again, Mr Dursley."

"Oh," Dudley looked at him, a little horrified by the blunt recital and Harry elbowed Ron in retaliation. He didn't need his only living relatives thinking he was a cold-blooded murderer. They were climbing the stairs to the third floor, and he glanced over his shoulder at Dudley as he walked.

"It was him or us," Harry told his cousin firmly, "And quite frankly I'm glad it was him, so can it the both of you."

"Yes dear," Ron's chastised reply had Harry laughing, unable to maintain any kind of anger with his partner when he was in such a playful mood.

On the third floor, the Sister at the desk led them to Aunt Petunia, who was sitting up, her eyes fastened on the door. She held her bony arms out to her son and Dudley rushed to them, engulfing his mother in his hug. Harry hung back, leaning into Ron's body when his partner snuck his arms around from behind. Ron hummed under his breath and rocked them a little. Harry was content to rest in his partner's arms, safe and wanted. He'd deal with Aunt Petunia and her son as gently as he could. They had raised him - grudgingly it was true - and he owed it to them to see that they were comfortable in their new lives. Vernon Dursley's death would have a huge impact on their lives, and it behoved him not to add to that burden.

0oo0oo0

Ron sighed as the front door closed behind Dudley and turned to Harry with a smile. Smeltings was totally unlike Hogwarts - built as it was in a Manor house with immaculately kept lawns and gardens. The shrubs and hedges had all been trimmed into artistic shapes, and there were Muggle curtains and blinds hanging in the windows.

"Weird sort of place," Ron chuckled and Harry rolled his eyes, leading the way back along the driveway. It had been a long day and not a lot of fun for his partner as he'd helped his Aunts come to terms with her loss, told her what the Wizards had told Aunt Marge about terrorist attacks and how Dudley had been managing his fathers estate for her. The Healers were going to release her to a Muggle convalescence home in a few days time, one that was close to Smeltings so her son could visit her regularly. Ron doubted that she'd taken in most of what was said, and had monitored Harry closely throughout the day. He had him sitting for most of the day, and fetched and carried with a will for all three so Harry wouldn't have to.

"We're in the clear to go home now," Ron said once the school was hidden behind some very tall trees, and Harry sighed, turning to face him. Ron moved to take him in his arms, and was pleased when Harry snuggled in. He rocked them both a little and felt Harry's lips relax into a smile against the side of his neck.

"Do we have time to visit your mum and dad first?" Harry's soft voice was clearly audible to Ron and he nodded and kissed the dark head nestled in his neck. His mum would be very pleased to see her _withchild_ son-in-law. She'd been threatening to come to the house and take Harry away for a day, but a short visit now would placate her. He let go with a sigh and kissed Harry on the lips for good measure before Disapparating.

Molly was in her garden, looking over the vegetable patch with a careful eye. She whirled when they arrived and beamed at them, hurrying over to hug them both.

"Harry, you're glowing," she complimented Ron's spouse and Harry blushed. Ron laughed at him and followed his mother into the kitchen, starting the kettle for a cup tea while she fussed over Harry and patted her grandchildren. It was a total mind spin to Ron that his mother was about to become a grandmother, a change that was coming about because of him.

Harry was leaning into her side, soaking up the attention for a change while he told her about his Aunt and cousin. Ron kept quiet, glad that his partner was choosing to open up to his mother-in-law. Molly was listening carefully, nodding and frankly cuddling Harry close. His partner hadn't had much maternal affection in his life - Lily Potter had loved him for only a year before she was taken from him, and her sister had frankly failed her duty - so the cuddles were soothing to Harry right now. Ron knew his friend was feeling a little more vulnerable at the moment due to his status as _withchild_. Harry had confided late one night that he was worried he'd be a bad parent. The Dursley's had provided him with a very clear outline of what _not_ to do, and when Ron had pointed out Harry's devotion to the younger students at the school his partner had calmed down a little.

"You're staying to tea, of course," Ron's mother told him when he put a teacup and the pot in front of her. Harry shook his head, sitting up a little and folding his arms.

"We promised Hermione and Neville we'd be back for tea," Harry sighed and Ron winked at his mother before she could work up a protest.

"Well, you stay here, and I'll go back to them," Ron suggested, "You can show mum how much your cooking has progressed over the hols, and I'll take the others out for tea or something."

"Are you sure?" Harry hesitated and Ron grinned in relief. His mother added her voice to his, urging Harry to stay for a while longer. Harry gave in eventually, and Ron finished his cup of tea off, standing and kissing his mother goodbye before leaning over his spouse. They broke for air and Harry sighed, leaning his temple against Ron's.

"If you decide to spend the night that will be fine," Ron whispered and Harry nodded. He had the feeling that his partner would probably go to sleep under Molly's caring influence, and didn't want Harry trying to Apparate home while still tired.

"I'll send Flynn if he's staying," Molly spoke up and they walked Ron outside. He hugged them both one last time and Apparated, arriving in the kitchen of the house. A shout ascertained that there wasn't anyone home and Ron headed upstairs to get changed. Dressed in comfortable clothes, he headed out to do a bit of maintenance on the bike, taking it for a run into the village to fill the tank.

Neville and Hermione were waiting when he got home, and readily agreed to Apparating to Diagon Alley for a meal. Harry was the best chef they had, and a little possessive of his kitchen. Ron was glad to see it, to him it was a sign that Harry was truly happy in their house, and settling into their life together. His spouse would return from the Burrow feeling a bit better, and they'd have this last week of the hols to finish getting their garden in order before returning to Hogwarts. This last term would be a busy one, and Ron was glad that he'd have the house waiting to bring Harry back to.

0oo0oo0

"It's almost a disappointment not to be teaching this term," Ron muttered as they settled into their seats, waiting for Professor Binns. Harry grinned in agreement, and Ron sighed, pulling his books out and settling in. The Easter idyll at Potters Field was over, and they were 'back in the real world' as Neville had sighed upon returning to the school. That might have had something to do with a scowling Snape watching them from the teacher's table as they filed into the Great Hall.

"We'll need the extra study time," Harry reminded him and Ron nodded. Teaching had been a lot of fun, even if it was a huge responsibility. He was nervous about meeting Madam Hooch at dinner, because she'd have taught his second years by then, and assessed their progress. Harry's fingers stroked over the back of his and Ron smiled as the ghost glided through the blackboard.

The Professor's lecture style hadn't changed at all since the last time Ron had been in his class, and he sighed, making a few brief notes of the key dates and trying not to doze off. Harry's hand crept onto his thigh, warm and heavy and comfortable. They'd had to make some emergency adjustments to his spouse's uniform this morning as the swelling across the once flat belly had grown over the holidays. Dobby had seemed to sense their consternation, as the elf had appeared and promised to fix the rest of Harry's things for him by teatime. He'd watched as Harry put the glamour charms on, hiding that little 'bump' as Ron had started to call it.

Harry's hand clenched suddenly and Ron turned to look at him in concern. Hermione, who was on his partners' other side also looked over at the slight gasp he'd given. The morning sickness had finally abated, so Ron knew it wasn't that, and for a moment he thought the scar on his friend's forehead was aching again.

/they moved/ Harry's fingers were shaking with excitement//Ron, they moved/

Ron nodded and smiled for Hermione as Harry was clearly too astonished to notice anything other than the new signs of life within him. He reached a hand casually into Harry's lap and pressed against the Bump gently, not wanting to hurt them or his lover. Harry guided his hand and patted it in place.

Ron waited patiently, letting Binns' words flow over his head, aware that Hermione was also ignoring the professor in favour of watching them. A huge grin split his face as something beneath his hand fluttered. That was one of his children, moving around a little, and moment later another joined in. Ron wanted desperately to be alone with his spouse right now, to be able to cuddle up to him and feel their babies move around gently.

He patted the spot, then stroked /hello/ over it before drawing away reluctantly and sitting back properly before anyone noticed. No matter what they'd learned about Sympathetic Magic over the holidays - and it wasn't ego that suggested that his fellow students had hit the books to discover more about him and Harry - he didn't want to start a rumour that he had been molesting Harry in History of Magic. Hermione picked her quill up again and started writing once more. A questioning glance from Harry had Ron nodding permission and he watched the slender fingers capture Hermione's free hand, guiding it to the same spot Ron had touched. She looked startled, then concentrated for a moment, her face lighting up when she realised what was happening. She leaned forward to include Ron in her smile and he grinned back, face shining.

/I think they're bored with Binns/ Harry's fingers told Ron's thigh and he barely contained his snort of laughter. He shot his spouse a hot look and Harry's fingers trembled on the quill he held, sending a skittering line over his parchment. Being _withchild_ had made Harry very amorous once everything had settled down, and he'd probably pay for that comment in bed tonight. Ron was not complaining.

0oo0oo0

Harry raised his head grumpily, trying to locate the irritating noise. He had Ron curled around him, his face pressed to the Bump, fingers caressing silly messages over and around it. The bed was warm and they had an hour until it was teatime. Hermione had been very understanding about them blowing off their usual routine of studying in the library in order to spend some time getting used to the newest development. Ron had taken him to Madam Pomfrey at dinner to be checked over, and she'd smiled in a very understanding fashion at them both. Everything was fine, and the rest of the day had been fairly easy. Even double Divination didn't bother him too much today.

Someone was knocking with authority on their door and he heaved a sigh, reaching down to roll Ron off him and getting up from their warm nest. He restored the glamour charm as Ron woke up and headed over to the door, removing the privacy wards and opening it. Professor Dumbledore was standing there, and Harry stepped back to let him in. The Headmaster was obviously in a hurry, but whatever he was hurrying over was put aside for a moment as he reached out to put a hand on Harry's shoulder.

"Are you alright, dear boy? We missed you at dinner," he was asked tenderly and felt a huge grin split his face. He guided the other Wizards hand to his Bump and the babies fluttered against the touch. Dumbledore's face lit up in response and Harry chuckled, the Headmaster echoing the sound as he patted gently over the movement.

"It started in History of Magic this morning," he told his mentor happily and Dumbledore pulled back, "Ron wanted Madam Pomfrey to check that everything was ok, so we went at dinner."

"I see," the Headmaster nodded, "As much as I would wish otherwise, I'm afraid that I must disturb your rest."

"What's wrong?" Ron asked, coming up to wrap Harry in his arms. Harry was tense, expecting bad news, expecting to hear that Voldemort had somehow dragged himself back together and was coming to the castle. Dumbledore raised a hand to placate him and Harry was grateful that the Headmaster was not as oblivious as many people thought at first.

"Minister Fudge is here to discuss your future with the Ministry. I haven't much time as he and Professor McGonagall are coming to fetch you to the Room of Requirement - neutral ground for your meeting. I will be there as well, and I want you to remember that your partnership does not mean that you must sell your souls to the whims of the Ministry. Cornelius is the supplicant, here," the blue eyes sparked at them both and Harry grinned wryly, relaxing a little. He didn't like Fudge, and from what the Headmaster wasn't saying, Fudge was out to take the credit for their work again thus getting re-elected at Christmas.

"I bet he won't let that little fact on," Ron mused, echoing Harry's thoughts, and Harry sighed, nodding in agreement. Dumbledore twinkled at them and left quickly. Harry glanced around and spotted his shoes, moving free of the comfortable arms to put them on with a grumpy face.

"Uh oh," Ron teased lightly, "That's not a happy Harry face."

"No," Harry agreed, frowning even more, "And Fudge is about to find out what happens when he interrupts my cuddle time with you."

Ron laughed and kissed the temper off his face, clever fingers soothing his back and scalp, warm lips nuzzling his. Harry melted against his partner for a long moment before pulling back reluctantly. It wouldn't do to give Fudge information about their sex lives. He wondered if the Minister knew he was _withchild_ and then shrugged. He doubted the Headmaster would have given away that little secret and looked over at Ron speculatively. His partner looked well kissed.

"What," Ron asked, half amused, half apprehensive. Harry smiled in reassurance at his partner as someone else knocked on the door. He ruffled his hair up and then smoothed it down again, a nervous habit that always got a grin from Ron.

"We'll just have to be cunning and devious," he watched Ron move towards the door. He waited until his spouse's hand was on the door and added, "Did you know that I was almost put in Slytherin?"

0oo0oo0

Ron spluttered and glared back as his partner before turning to face Professor McGonagall, all thoughts of snuggling with Harry gone from his head as his partner had no doubt intended. Pay back was a bitch, and Harry would find out all about it at Ron's leisure.

"Hello Professor, Minister," he said politely, "Is something wrong?"

"Minister Fudge wants to talk to you and Mr Potter," from Professor McGonagall's expression and tone the good Minister had put her thoroughly on her wrong side. Ron noticed Harry take notice of this and come to stand in the door beside him, smiling at their Head of House.

"Would you join us, ma'am?" Ron asked politely, "We'd appreciate your advice. Your office perhaps?"

"That's not very convenient," Fudge vetoed the idea immediately, "I'm sure we can manage here."

"Sorry, Minister," Harry's reply was bland and cool, "We've only two armchairs. How about the Room of Requirement? That should be nearby."

From the Professors approving little smile, Ron guessed they were playing along nicely, and he gestured courteously for her to precede them through the common room. Harry shut their dorm door behind them and was forced to fall into step with Fudge, leaving Ron to escort the Transfigurations mistress. Ron bit down on a surge of anger. Harry was all that the Minister was interested in, as usual, and Ron was merely an inconvenient tag along, despite the fact that Sympathetic Magic required two people to practice it. He didn't let his anger show on his face, keeping himself under tight control. Harry didn't feel that way, and he certainly didn't seek out the attention of others. Fame and notoriety were something that he tried to avoid.

The Room of Requirement had moved itself to their level and Ron politely held the door for McGonagall. Harry stopped beside him and took his hand, waving Fudge inside first. He leaned in and kissed Ron's cheek, whispering softly in his ear.

"You first, last and always."

The promise made Ron smile and nuzzle the retreating face softly before taking Harry's hand and heading in, letting the door swing shut behind them. Harry sealed it with a privacy spell and they walked over to the couch that was obviously left empty for them. Professor McGonagall and Professor Dumbledore were sitting side by side on the other couch, a low table in front of them with tea things on it. Fudge was sitting stiffly in an armchair, his briefcase open beside his feet, a small spindle legged table beside him piled with documents.

Ron ushered Harry to a seat, making sure there was a cushion at his back and settled in beside him, their hands clasped together lightly, fingers rubbing and stroking for a moment in mutual reassurance. Fudge pasted a smile onto his face and opened his mouth, turning to look at the two teachers, obviously about to get rid of them.

"Tea?" Harry said immediately, hitching forward and pouring a cup, "How do you take it Professor McGonagall?"

"Two lumps," she smiled at him almost dotingly, and Ron stifled a snicker. He got up to hand the cup and saucer over as Harry poured out for the Headmaster next and then the Minister. He passed the biscuits around and then settled in with his own cup of tea. Harry wasn't eating, and he raised a concerned eyebrow, settling when Harry stroked reassurance into his hand. He'd make sure his spouse ate properly in the Great Hall and left it at that. Now that the Minister couldn't really kick the teachers out without being very rude, thus possibly offending Ron and Harry, he huffed into his teacup and then fixed them with a steady glare, false camaraderie oozing from every pore.

"Well, gentlemen, it's time to discuss your future at the Ministry," Fudge put the mostly untouched tea down, picking up several of the documents at his side instead, "There are some decisions to be made of course, and firstly we should deal with your official residence. You can't live with your parents forever, Mr Weasley, and I rather think that there won't be a place for you at Hogwarts either," the not so faintly condescending tone had Ron's teeth on edge and Harry took a sharp breath. Ron knew all too well that he came from a family that wasn't rich, and never would be, and he realised that Fudge saw him as Harry's weak spot. From the stiffening of Harry's fingers and the slightly alarmed hitch to his breath, Ron knew that Harry would give up Potters Field when brooms became the most popular form of Muggle transport. He felt the same way, but could probably say it a little more politely.

"Ah, yes," Ron spoke before Harry could, and didn't miss the gleam in Fudge's eye. He thought that he had them in the palm of his hand. Nothing could be further from the truth.

"That's a very nice idea, Minister, but we already have a home," Ron completed the sentence smoothly, raising a slightly challenging eyebrow at the pompous twat opposite him. Fudge flushed and frowned. Ron snuck a glance at the teachers opposite them under the guise of turning to Harry and calming him down. They were sipping their tea calmly, but he could have sworn McGonagall winked at him.

"I… beg your pardon?" Fudge looked astonished and rifled his documents as if they could provide him with answers. Harry's fingers quieted Ron, and he sat back to allow his partner to handle this next part. They were a team and the trust between them was implicit.

"Minister, Ron and I have set ourselves up quite comfortably in a house of our own," Harry explained, "Now if you want to tender an offer of employment with the Ministry, then we are willing to listen. However if you attempt to interfere in our private lives again we will walk out."

That cold, adult, so very sexy tone had Ron crossing his legs and sipping his tea in an effort to quell his very treacherous hormones. Harry's fingers laughed at him and Ron smiled sweetly at him as he put the teacup down, enjoying the slightly disconcerted smile he got in return. Fudge was too busy trying to recover from that cool tone that he wouldn't notice the by play. They'd sort things out in private. It would be fun.

0oo0oo0

Hermione was waiting for them at tea, but they couldn't talk to her in the Great Hall - there were too many people around. Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle joined them at the Gryffindor table, and Harry noticed that the Slytherin Prefect was very subdued. With one parent dead and one in St Mungo's trying to recover from twenty years of the Imperious Curse, Malfoy was in a bad spot. Harry had noticed that quite a few of the Slytherin students - nearly half of them had Death Eaters for parents - were in a similar condition. Not quite depressed, but very subdued. Professor Snape had taken to actually eating at the Slytherin table on occasion with small groups from his House. It worried Harry that by getting rid of Voldemort with Ron's help, he had hurt people he knew. Not all of the students in Slytherin had Death Eaters for parents, and those that did wouldn't necessarily have followed in their footsteps.

He made a mental note to have a word with the first and second years the next time he took prep with Ron and spent dinner talking quietly to Malfoy about the potions Snape had them working on. At his fingers request, Ron distracted Crabbe and Goyle with Quidditch, and Hermione joined the potions talk, making as pleasant a meal out of it as possible. Malfoy was looking a little more cheerful by the end of the meal - he'd managed to get some good sneering in at them - and when Harry stood up with his friends he glanced over at the Slytherin table for a moment. Snape was watching him with an unreadable expression, one that changed as one of his students asked him a question.

"What was all that about?" Hermione asked as they walked up the Great Staircase, "Harry?"

"I… it's not fair to punish them for their parents decisions," Harry sighed, "How can we talk about school unity if we treat the Slytherins badly? Nearly half of them have had a parent put in Azkaban or killed, or just disappeared. We need to support them."

"That's Snape's job," Ron pointed out. Harry looked at him steadily and Ron sighed, giving in with a nod, "Ok, ok, just stop looking at me like that!"

Hermione laughed and Harry joined in, following her to their dorm room, watching her lock the door behind them while Ron pulled off his outer robes and hung them on a hook, turning and tugging at Harry's when he made no move to get undressed.

"Make yourself at home, Hermy," Ron said absently, pulling the robe off and bending to undo Harry's shoes as well. Harry shook his head, stepping away once the laces were undone and toeing them off. Hermione took over, bustling him to the bed and climbing on, pulling him after her, Ron following until Harry was sandwiched between them both, a mismatched pair of hands on the Bump, one red and one brown head resting on his shoulders.

"Yes, make yourself at home," Harry snorted and Ron leaned up to kiss him, his fingers stroking the Bump curiously. There was a slight movement in response and Hermione gasped in delight.

"What is this, feel up the _withchild_ guy?" Harry continued, not at all outraged, merely amused by the attention, and a little flattered. It felt so strange to have his insides moving independently, and the fact that his best friend and his spouse were so interested made it only weirder.

"What did Fudge want?" Hermione asked and Harry rested his cheek on Ron's head. If he sat still enough Ron would probably doze off, and Harry could get the cuddles that had been interrupted this afternoon. Ron was very cuddly when he was asleep.

"He came to arrange an official residence for us - that we turned down straight away - and to outline what our traditional duty to the Ministry was," Harry sighed, comfortable and warm. Hermione clucked her tongue and he wormed an arm around her waist, cuddling her too.

"Bet that went down well with Ron," she muttered and Harry chuckled. Ron had been incensed that the Minister would be so… mercenary.

"He was not best pleased," Harry agreed, "Neither was Dumbledore or McGonagall. Fudge tried to do this without their presence, you see, and we had to be a bit devious about it all."

"So what will you be doing after school?" Hermione asked curiously, "You were going to be an Auror before, right?"

"With the babies on the way I'd have to have given that up," Harry admitted, "I don't think that it would be fair to them for us both to do such a dangerous job, so if Ron wanted to be an Auror then I'd have found something else to do. We can't do that now either, really, because we'd be splitting up the partnership. The Magic works best when we're together, and it would be dangerous for us both for Ron to go to work without me. Either one of us could distract the other at a crucial moment just by casting a simple spell."

"Does Fudge know you're _withchild_?" Hermione asked and Harry shook his head, patting her hip lightly.

"Only family know about that," he told her, "And the teachers because they need to let me out of some of the more risky lessons. I don't want Fudge all over us right now - can you imagine how bad he'd be? He'd want us to name the babies after him."

"Yuck," Hermione agreed, the fluttering under her hand stilling as the child she was patting went to sleep, "So? What will you do now?"

"Well, St Mungo's will have us on contract to brew Tears of the Phoenix, and we'll be asking Professor Snape for any further training or potions he wants us to have. The Department of Accidental Magic Reversal will have us on call, and so will the Aurors. We'll be doing a little training with both of those departments of course, to ensure that we're up to speed with their methods, though we told Fudge we'd start the training next year. But that was all that we agreed to. Fudge wanted us to work full time in the Department as consultants - on what he wouldn't say - but we turned him down."

"But that's not too busy," Hermione smiled, "You'll be able to spend time at home with the children at least. Will the contracts you've described be enough to live on?"

"If we only agreed to brew Tears of the Phoenix for the next three years we could buy ourselves a nice little country somewhere," Harry confessed with a chuckle, "The potion is so rarely made that St Mungo's was desperate for us to agree to make it. We'll brew double batches for them every two months and one batch will be dedicated to curing the werewolves."

"I'm so glad you could help Professor Lupin," Hermione agreed sleepily. Ron was a limp weight against Harry's side and the bed was warm and cosy from heat generated by the three of them.

"Me too," Harry lowered his voice to a gentle tone, his hand stroking her hip lightly, "He deserves happiness."

"Mm," Hermione agreed, her head growing heavier on his shoulder. She had been working so hard lately, studying every moment she got. Harry slowed his breathing down even further and relaxed into the pillows at his back. Sleeping sitting up wasn't his idea of a lot of fun, but they were so comfortable, and he was honoured that Hermione would trust them enough to relax so far as to sleep, that it seemed a pity to wake them. Hermione snuffled a little into his shoulder and Harry smiled, letting his eyes close, summoning the shields that he held around his mind as he slept.

0oo0oo0

Ron watched as Harry went to sit at the table that held the first and second year Slytherin students. The other three tables in the prep rooms were full of happy laughing students; all mixed together, House unimportant as they worked through their homework and assignments. Slytherin had been pretty withdrawn since some of their parents had disappeared, even the ones who hadn't lost a parent were moving around the school with tentative steps.

Ron had the feeling, and Harry had agreed, that the younger students felt that the school was going to unify against their House. Slytherin had taken its pleasure in the taunting of other Houses for so long that there had been a huge backlash against them with the death of Tom Riddle. Harry had told Ron that he planned to stir up the younger students a little, mostly because they were the ones that had been here for the start of the school decision to unify the Houses and would therefore be a little more receptive to the idea of regenerating Slytherins image.

He paid close attention to his boisterous Gryffindors and smiled as Beth succeeded in finally changing her cup of water into rum. Her Transfiguration work was appalling, much to their Head of House' despair. She was a little better in Defence Against the Dark Arts, and her Charm work was adequate enough. It was in Potions and Herbology that she shined, and Ron had heard her explaining the Potions homework in Snape's cutting style more than once.

A glance at his watch showed that the prep time was almost up; the first and second years had an early curfew in order to ensure they stayed out of trouble. Harry was working quietly with the Slytherins paying attention only to them despite the glances the rest of the Houses were throwing his way in the hopes that they could get his attention. Ron packed them up early today, wanting to join Harry in the 'stirring' so his spouse wouldn't get into trouble alone if it came to that.

Harry had evidently asked the Slytherins to stay behind because Ron had the rest of the Houses out the door while Harry helped them pack up. Once he was sure that the first and second years were on their way back to their common rooms Ron sealed the door and came to sit at the end of the table opposite Harry.

"Go on then," one of Harry's former students sighed, "Tell us just how evil we all are."

Ron gaped at him in horror, wondering just who had told them that the rest of the school thought they were evil, and Harry broke the tension with his laughter. He was stared at, and one or two people shifted, stifling their own laughter. Ron's partner was irresistible when he laughed, even these young people couldn't stand against his charm.

"You're not evil," Harry shook his head, his eyes sparkling, "And I know that the rest of your House isn't too happy right now, which is making things hard for you, but no one in the school thinks that you're bad."

"Draco heard some of the seventh years," one of Ron's girls spoke up and Harry held up a hand. She stopped speaking and Harry folded his arms on the table, leaning in to get their full attention. Ron was fascinated, and the tiny glances he could spare for the rest of the students showed that they were too.

"Seventh years are, on the whole, stressed and stupid right now," Harry shook his head, "And… well, we've had a lot of time to get into bad habits. The problem as I see it is that the Slytherin House is the victim of some poor selections. You guys had a group of students go through that ruined the House reputation, because at the time they were doing what their parents told them to do. Slytherin doesn't stand for evil, or even nastiness. Your House prizes people with ambition and sharp wits. You can be sneaky, but you're clever. There's never been any mention of nastiness or mean behaviour in your House guidelines. It's time you guys took control and started reminding this school just how witty and sharp you all are."

"Exactly," Ron beamed, seeing instantly what Harry was aiming for, "You guys need to get it back to basics and rebuild."

"Huh?" the first student who had spoken shook his head, but Ron thought that he could see the beginning of hope in the pale face, "How?"

"Oh come on," Harry rolled his eyes, "Wit is often equated with humour. Now, I'm not telling you to run around performing harmless practical jokes on the students, or in the corridors or anything like that. I mean that would be totally irresponsible of me as a seventh year."

"And I'm not suggesting that you start looking for the humour in some of the lessons that can be transferred to other places or anything either," Ron spoke up, "However, it would be nice to see your House return to the wit and intelligence it was once known for."

"Seriously, we're not encouraging any kind of rule breaking. We don't want to see you in trouble or taking huge risks. But a little harmless, well meant fun… that couldn't hurt anyone, right?" Harry agreed, "You should think it over. I'm sure that people as sharp witted as you understand what we mean."

Ron got up and unsealed the door as the students gathered their things together. He and Harry would have to walk them to the common room as it was just on curfew and he didn't want to see them in trouble for staying back to hear his partner out. With a bit of luck the seeds they'd planted in these agile minds would take root and flower.

0oo0oo0

All was quiet for a week or so. Harry could see that the first and second years were thinking and plotting together, however, their heads close together and wandering in little clumps around the corridors. They were still mixing with the rest of the school, and Harry encouraged his friends to reminisce a little in their hearing about past pranks that the Gryffindor's had pulled or had pulled on them. From the wondering glances he knew that they were wondering what was going on, but the first and second years ate it up, and it was kind of fun to muse over old times. It was also a great stress relief - if you were laughing, you weren't worrying over your NEWT's.

Hermione had probably figured out what was going on, because Harry was sure that he'd seen her put a book of charms next to a Slytherin boy that contained some of the jokes they were talking about. That book was promptly checked out and Harry could have sworn she winked at the student in question and mouthed a page number to him.

The first years chose Monday tea for their first prank, waiting until the meal was over and people starting to think about getting back to their common room or studies. Harry clearly heard Hannah Abbott complain that she was too tired to walk back to the library. A minute later the bench she was sitting on was walking her to the door, along with the four other students still sitting on it.

Laughter rang through the hall over their startled exclamations, and Snape glanced suspiciously at one of his students. Harry distracted the Potions master by ending the spell and making a show of rescuing her from the bench, chiding her for her 'laziness'. Hannah was flushed and surprised, but not hurt, and laughed at the joke, thanking the hall at large for 'taking pity on her'.

On Tuesday someone enchanted the suits of armour along the second floor corridors to follow students along, clanking ominously. No one was hurt, though it was a little disconcerting to suddenly gain a metal 'shadow' that copied your every movement, including looking around to see what was following it. Filch wasn't best pleased, but there were a lot more smiles around that day, and Professor Flitwick was heard to admire the quality of the charm work.

On Wednesday someone started a food fight at teatime, and Harry was fairly sure he'd seen the Headmaster throwing custard at Professor Snape. Things quietened down a bit after that, but Harry was satisfied with the start that had been made. Rumours that the third and fourth years were going to get into the act reached his ears and he spent the day with a grin that wouldn't go away.

"Far too self satisfied, Potter," Ron mumbled in their bed that night, and Harry snorted.

"You can talk, Potter," he retorted, the first time he had given Ron his last name. He was thoroughly kissed in reply before Ron dropped back onto the mattress and snuggled around the Bump. The triplets had started using Harry's bladder as a trampoline this morning, which meant he was headed for the loo every hour or so, much to his embarrassment.

"You're fascinated by that, aren't you?" he grinned, looking down his body to his spouse. Ron sat up, looking at him seriously. He obviously had something on his mind, and Harry didn't have long to wonder what it was.

"I just…" the redhead ran a hand through his already messy hair, "Ok, here's the thing. When we talked about having kids… not that we really did…and you didn't know much about it, anyway, what it really meant… so I didn't honestly think that you'd ever want this… to be _withchild_. And now, you're carrying our kids, and taking NEWT's and taking care of the younger students, especially Slytherins and… I just can't believe how… how wonderful you are, and how lucky I am to have you."

"I'm just as lucky to have you," Harry whispered, feeling ridiculously touched by the words. His emotions were a lot closer to the surface due to the hormones that came with being _withchild_, which Harry hated. Ron crawled back up the bed and wrapped him in his arms, letting Harry hide in his neck, breathing in the scent that he loved best, glad that there was at least one person in the world who he could count on for anything.

0oo0oo0


	18. Term 3, 7th year 2

"…several of these ingredients are hazardous to the unborn," Snape was saying as Harry and the others copied down the potion they were making today, chilling his heart, "But there are substitutions that can be made. Mr Potter, you've just volunteered to make the potion with the substitutions. Let's see how much attention you've been paying this year."

Harry nodded in relief, gathering his things and moving them up to the empty space at the front of the room. He spent a few extra minutes adjusting the recipe, working through each substitution carefully, so as not to inadvertently brew up something that would explode or do something else just as dangerous. Malfoy was the only other person in the front row, but as always the Slytherin Prefect was working directly opposite the Professor's desk and therefore would be unable to do anything without their teacher noticing.

Harry had found a new pleasure in potion making. Once he'd decided to just ignore Snape's vindictive behaviour he'd found the lessons interesting. Charms and Transfiguration were simple in that cause and effect followed each other very predictably, but in potions there were so many extra factors that could affect the outcome of your brewing that the intricate reactions fascinated Harry.

He was aware that Snape was standing opposite him as he expertly diced the honeycomb that was a part of this recipe, thankful that his practice in the kitchen over Easter had allowed him to improve his technique. He'd taken over all the cooking during the holidays, finding it a restful activity that had a tangible reward at the end. Harry did his best to ignore the scrutiny of his teacher as he left the honeycomb to grind the dried griffin hamstrings into a fine powder.

"Mr Potter," Snape's voice was smooth and dark, and Harry had to quell his body's reaction to it. His hormones were not going to rule his gonads if he had anything to say about it. Especially not with Snape of all people!

"Yes, sir?" Harry looked up, pausing his preparations obligingly. Snape's eyes flashed with some unreadable emotion and the Professor crossed his arms over his chest, drawing his robes closely around him.

"What can you tell me about the recent practical jokes in the castle?" Snape raised an eyebrow and Harry frowned. He knew the youngsters hadn't been caught, nor would they be if they continued their discreet activities.

"Nothing, sir," Harry answered honestly. He couldn't tell the man anything, because that would get him in trouble, that much was true. Snape's eyes flashed at him and the Head of Slytherin sneered before sweeping off to glance over Malfoy's preparations and moving on to Finch-Fletchly. Harry wondered if Snape was following the old pattern of blaming Harry for every incident that occurred that he didn't like, or if there was some substance behind the accusation.

Harry took a deep breath and returned his concentration to his potion, shelving his speculation for when he could talk to his partner and have his worries soothed. Since Madam Pomfrey had told Ron he was going to be a dad, the redhead had been even more solicitous of Harry than ever before. Harry was reluctant to allow the spoiling, though Ron could usually get around him at the end of the day when he was tired.

By the end of the lesson, Harry's potion was the same colour and consistency as Hermione's - she was still the most accurate brewer in the class despite the extra tuition that Malfoy obviously got - and Snape made a show of checking his potion cautiously before nodding for Harry to clean it up. He joined Ron and Hermione in the corridor and told them in a low voice what Snape had asked.

"He's just blaming the stuff he doesn't like on you, Harry," Hermione said immediately, "Don't worry about it."

"Yeah, mate, he's just being his usual self," Ron chimed in, peering at him anxiously, and Harry smiled in reassurance, then grunted when a particularly active child jolted his diaphragm. Ron had gotten used to that noise, and waved Hermione's concerned look off easily.

/hey! Stop kicking your father/ his fingers stroked over the Bump sternly and Harry snorted, shaking his head. As Ron had stepped in to hug him, one hand between their bodies while they paused in the shadows of the stairs that led up to the castle proper, he wasn't too worried that people would notice where Ron's hand was. Hermione was used to this by now, and had even got into the habit of shifting to give them some cover.

"Come on, let's get going," she urged, "We're going to be late for Charms."

"Coming," Ron sighed, letting go.

/you will later/ Harry promised his partner's arm and followed Hermione up the stairs, ignoring the spluttering behind him.

0oo0oo0

Ron groaned as he caught sight of the Minister for Magic, waiting for them beside the Great Hall with a reporter and photographer in tow. He just wanted some breakfast and some time to wake up properly. Harry had shagged him into orbit last night and he needed time to recover his scattered wits before the day started with double Transfigurations. Harry needed time to eat in peace as well, Ron was still carefully monitoring his partner's diet, as was Hermione, Neville, Ginny and the teachers.

"Patience," Harry sighed, "Calm and adult."

"Bugger that," Ron replied under his breath and took Harry's hand firmly, tugging him along as the Minister stepped forward to waylay them. Harry's manners were ingrained deeply, and could be a bit of a hindrance at times.

"Harry! Ron! I was hoping to have a moment of your time," the Minister smiled, glancing at the hawk faced reporter beside him, while the short photographer - Ron thought it might be the same guy that had been taking pictures of Gilderoy Lockhart in his heyday - aimed his camera at them.

"Put that away," Ron barked, startling the man so badly that the camera jerked to one side and took a picture of the wall behind them instead. Ron ignored the mans curse, glaring at him with impunity. He didn't have to put up with this rot and neither did Harry.

"Minister, we've only got a short while before breakfast is finished," Harry was saying diplomatically. Fudge beamed at them in a familiar manner that had Ron's stomach roiling queasily. Couldn't the man take a hint?

"I'm sure your teachers won't mind if you give us a moment of your time. We can ask one of the house elves to bring you a tray while we chat," Fudge reached out to take Harry by the arm and looked astonished when Ron tugged Harry out of range. The reporter was watching keenly, and Ron had a very nasty idea.

"Well I'm afraid that we mind, Minister," Ron said before Harry could speak up, spotting Professor McGonagall striding towards them as well, "Firstly, we take our NEWT's this term and have a lot of work to do so we can finish creditably, so we don't want to miss any lessons, and secondly Harry and I aren't in the habit of making extra work for the house elves. They're busy enough without us making unnecessary requests of them."

"Boys, go in to breakfast please," Professor McGonagall had arrived and Ron moved immediately, keeping himself between Harry and Fudge. He didn't want the man to touch his partner, something about him made Ron's skin crawl.

Malfoy had two seats available opposite him and Harry led Ron over without pause, sliding into the first space and reaching for the toast. There were a few people whispering and looking at them, but Ron ignored it all in favour of getting on with their delayed breakfast. They said good morning to Malfoy, as well as to Justin Finch-Fletchly, who was sitting further up the table.

"What was all that about?" Malfoy asked, glancing over to where McGonagall and the Headmaster now spoke with Fudge in low tones. Harry sighed, but Ron beat him to the answer, shaking his head at his spouse.

"Fudge is trying to use us to get re-elected at Christmas. We don't want a bar of it. Besides, anything that gives the Daily Prophet an exclusive story isn't a good thing," Ron tucked in to the kippers on his plate, watching Harry add a dash of ginger marmalade to his plate, which he dipped his forkful of bacon and eggs in occasionally. That little craving still had Ron shuddering in distaste, and the look on Malfoy's face was priceless. The blonde Prefect shook his head and finished his cup of tea, moving as if to get up.

"Best way to stop that little plan is to hold an exclusive interview with someone else," he told them, wiped his mouth on a napkin and strode off with Crabbe and Goyle at his heels. Ron choked on his mouthful and Harry thumped him on the back in a friendly manner.

/Did Malfoy just offer us friendly, useful advice/ Ron asked Harry's wrist and Harry rolled his eyes.

"Yes," he answered aloud, "Don't be so surprised. Slytherin House is known for its ability to make the best use of circumstances."

Justin choked on his mouthful of toast and Ron shook his head. They watched as Colin Creevey paused on his way past to batter him on the back, desisting only when Justin shoved him away a bit.

"Wonders will never cease," he wheezed, "Did you just compliment Slytherin?"

Ron rolled his eyes and sighed, sipping his tea for a moment while Harry concentrated on his breakfast, anger in the set of his shoulders and arms. They had been under scrutiny for so long as they struggled to promote school unity, and after all this time people still thought they were pretending? It wasn't fair.

"Why not?" Ron scowled at the other boy, "There's nothing wrong with Slytherin House. It's got good and bad people, just like any other House."

Justin sat back, a look of concentration on his face. Ron sincerely hoped that meant he was thinking things over.

0oo0oo0

"Hang on," Harry stopped Ron reaching for the bottle of shampoo, "That's not right."

"What's not right?" Ron frowned. Harry had become a little paranoid about the shampoo he used ever since the twins embarrassing prank just before the wedding. He always checked the bottle before he used it. As Ron was about to wash Harry's hair - they had gotten up extra early to do this undisturbed - that meant that Harry was not in the best position to do his usual checking.

"The smell is wrong," Harry turned under the water, the Bump rubbing against Ron's flat belly. Ron sniffed the shampoo cautiously. It was supposed to be faintly apple scented, but it actually smelt like banana. Ron capped the bottle and put it back on the shelf, reaching for the hand soap instead.

"We'll use this instead then," he promised and Harry looked relieved that he wasn't protesting. The dye had finally worn out of Harry's hair and his partner's paranoia had abated - he no longer insisted on bringing his own shampoo to the shower, or warding the bottle to prevent tampering when he wasn't around. That didn't mean he was going to risk having purple and green hair again.

Ron leaned in and kissed the warm, wet lips before raising lather covered hands to massage Harry's scalp, loving the feeling of his partner's changing body as it pressed against him. Harry's arms were a warm weight around his waist and Ron hummed under his breath as he spread the lather through carefully, then rinsed it out. Harry kissed him in thanks and leaned over to lather his own hands, soaping them evenly and returning the favour.

They dried off quickly, replaced Harry's glamour charm and hurried back to their room, shutting and sealing the door before tumbling onto the bed and kissing each other fervently. Hands came into play and it didn't take long for them to reach mutual satiation. Ron let Harry clean them up and then slithered down the bed to kiss the Bump good morning, stroking welcoming messages into the swollen skin.

"Idiot," the tone was indulgent, though, and the green eyes that met his were very gentle. Ron grinned and slithered up to plant a kiss between them before getting up reluctantly.

"Come on, I want an early breakfast this morning," he held out a hand and Harry got up, dressing carefully, the expanded uniforms coming in handy. Ron sighed as Harry put the glamour back on, knowing he wouldn't see the children for the rest of the day, and wishing it didn't have to be that way. They weren't too keen to advertise Harry's condition, his partner simply didn't want the notoriety and publicity that would come with that piece of news being passed around the school. Once exams were over it wouldn't matter.

"I love you, Potter," Harry gave him a crooked smile, well aware of what the new last name did to Ron's insides. He picked up their bags as Harry unsealed the door, letting his spouse carry his own bag this morning, rather than fuss about it.

"Stuck with me," Ron replied simply and waved a greeting to Neville as they headed for the main corridor. When he was sure no one was around he shot an amused glance at his partner. Harry was a little forgetful this morning, and Ron's ego was swelling as a result.

"So, what do you think they did?" he reminded his friend and watched Harry pale a little in response before flushing and laughing. A glance at Ron showed his concern and Ron let his fingers do the talking, persuading Harry that if he prevented the prank from going through, he'd undo all the progress in morale that Slytherin House had made.

"I don't know, but I hope that however they got the stuff into the shampoo they left the teachers alone!" Harry grasped the banister for the descent, with Ron hovering a little to one side. They were both chuckling lightly, but calmed down before they got to the Great Hall. Ron didn't want to give anyone the idea that they knew about this ahead of time. If Harry's paranoia hadn't kicked in they'd have been the first victims of this particular joke. They settled in for a leisurely breakfast, joined by Susan Bones not long after they arrived.

"Hannah's upstairs, primping for her birthday," Susan revealed, "Her parents are coming after lessons finish and taking her out to dinner tonight. It's a surprise."

"Are you going with her?" Ron asked and Susan smiled, nodding happily. Harry passed her the toast while Ron dished up a couple of chipolata's onto his spouses plate. Harry grinned at him and added some ginger marmalade to his plate. Susan eyed it with disgust and Ron distracted her with a question about Charms. Harry's cravings were mild at the moment, though Madam Pomfrey had warned them that they would only get stranger as the pregnancy went on.

The Hall was only half full as people trickled in for their first meal of the day. Several of the Slytherin first and second years had arrived already, their hair the usual colour. Professor Sprout and Professor Sinistra were already at the staff table, and as Ron watched Professor McGonagall joined them, leaned over and started whispering in their ears. Ron elbowed Harry, and his spouse watched the Head of Hufflepuff got up and hurried out, leaving Sinistra alone at the table, eyeing the students in the Hall speculatively. Ron was very glad that his and Harry's hair had dried by the second time they got up.

The Hall stayed mostly empty for breakfast, and Susan looked at the door several times in concern, finally putting some toast in a napkin for her friend to eat in class later. The Heads of Houses didn't appear for breakfast, and neither did the Headmaster. Ron hoped that the dye wasn't causing any problems other than concern about the colour of peoples hair and tugged Harry along to their first lesson of the day - double potions.

0oo0oo0

Harry cringed inwardly when he realised that Snape was wearing a very unusual piece of headgear. The pranksters had netted themselves a very important target. Harry hoped that the Potions master wouldn't dig too far. He had a feeling that the students who had pulled this off were on cloud nine, and having their Head of House come down on them would kill off any gains made in morale.

"Today we are going to concentrate on restorative potions," Snape growled at them. Malfoy was also wearing a scarf around his head, from which peeked strands of bright blue hair, "There are several different potions to be made today, and therefore I will hand out the recipes individually. Potter - you're to work up here with me."

That meant that the ingredients the others were using would be hazardous to Harry's children, and Harry moved with alacrity to the position indicated. He was making batches of hair dye, while Ron and the others were working on medicinal potions. He made sure that he had all the ingredients he needed and several additional cauldrons in order to make different colours of dye. He also made sure that he didn't look too hard at Snape in case the Potions master thought he was gloating or prying.

Snape prowled around the room, giving Harry a chance to see who else was sporting an interesting hair colour or new item of head wear. Neville's hair was a shocking bright green - and he was wearing it with a pride that had Harry smiling to himself, Neville was the least vain person Harry knew - and Hannah Abbott was wrapped in a scarf, bright pink hair peeking around her fringe. She looked a little tearful and Susan was hovering nearby, sending her anxious looks when Snape wasn't watching. Harry turned his attention back to his potions, making sure that the preparations were complete. It wouldn't do to let Hannah's day be spoiled by her unusual hair colour.

"Tell me Mr Potter," Snape's voice sounded in his ear as he filled the cauldrons with the precise amount of water, prior to heating them, "How is that you and Mr Weasley managed to avoid the new hair styles your fellow students are wearing?"

"The smell of the shampoo made me queasy," Harry said honestly, "We used the hand soap instead."

He honestly hadn't though about the ramifications of not warning his fellow students and guilt began to nibble at him, until he caught the gleam in Snape's eyes. The Head of Slytherin actually looked slightly approving of the prank - and probably would have approved a lot more if he hadn't been one of the victims. Harry lit the fires beneath his cauldrons and pulled his wand. The only way to brew these four potions simultaneously would be to use magic, though he thought that he wouldn't need the bond to do it.

He started murmuring under his breath, watching with an eagle eye as the first ingredients were added to the simmering water and the stirrers started the figure eight pattern that Snape insisted they use. His wand flitted from left to right, describing elegant figures in the air to ensure the ingredients and stirrers moved exactly as he wanted. The rhythm and challenge of the brewing took him over, sweeping him away as he worked the magic flawlessly, almost as good as the synchronisation that he felt with Ron in the bond. Time passed in measured increments, meaningful only when measured against the needs of his potions. He came back to himself with a regretful sigh when the fires were extinguished and the potions left to cool in their cauldrons.

He glanced back at Ron, knowing that his spouse was looking at him with concern, and sent the man a gentle smile, reassuring him without words that he and the children were just fine. He put his wand away and collected the now empty trays that had held his ingredients, stacking them precisely and taking them to the sink in the corner of the classroom, cleaning them quickly and putting them away according to Snape's exacting requirements.

"I think we'll have one of your own House test your potions, Potter," Snape's drawl greeted Harry as he stopped by his cauldrons, "Miss Granger, you're first."

Hermione stepped forward and took off the scarf her hair was hidden under, revealing locks as green as Neville's. She grinned at Harry, her shoulders shrugging a little as he choked trying not to laugh. Snape's glare helped with that and Harry watched the man collect the exact amount required in a dipper and motion Hermione over to the sink. When she stepped out of the corner her hair was the right colour. She kissed Harry's cheek and hurried back to her potion.

"Who is next?" Snape asked, and Malfoy's hand shot up instantly. The end of the lesson had returned everyone -including Professor Snape - that had been affected by the shampoo to their normal selves, with the exception of Neville, who had informed his teacher that he would like to keep his hair the colour it was.

"It makes a nice change," Neville explained as they walked out the door to their next lesson, and Hermione laughed, shaking her head fondly. Harry shot her a wondering look, hoping that she wasn't too upset. He couldn't believe that he hadn't warned his friends after he'd avoided the trap himself.

"It was pretty funny, Harry," Hermione seemed to read his mind, "Don't worry about it, no one was hurt and you brewed up enough dye for the whole school."

"Are you sure?" Harry looked at Neville who was chuckling as they walked. His friend nodded emphatically at him and Ron leaned in for a kiss to his cheek. Hannah Abbott walked past with her hair returned to normal, looking much more cheerful, and Harry sighed, letting the guilt go a little. It was a small burden - strange coloured hair for only a single morning - and it was true no one was hurt. How they'd managed to pull it off was another question, and Harry made a note to install wards with Ron on the Gryffindor quarters that would alert them to any further pranks.

0oo0oo0

Harry took his school robes and shoes off, hopping up to sit on the bed behind the screens that Madam Pomfrey had arranged for him. Ron was at Quidditch practice this evening, to his spouse's disgust, which meant that Harry was keeping his regular check-up appointment by himself. Hermione had offered to come with him, but he didn't want her to see him like this. Madam Pomfrey often had him half undressed before he knew where he was, and besides… it was one thing for Hermione to touch the Bump when it was hidden by his clothes, or a glamour charm, it was another for her to actually see it.

Madam Pomfrey had given him and Ron the titles of several books about being _withchild_ and the names of several good midwives. He had talked to Ron about it though, explaining that he didn't want strangers around him during the birth. He felt oddly shy of his new body, and was cautious about revealing it to anyone, even Ron sometimes. Ron had suggested that the school Matron might be able to help them out, so at the end of the next appointment he'd asked her to be with him for the delivery. She'd agreed and kissed his cheek before shooing him out, telling him that her sister - one of the names she'd supplied - would attend as well. Madam Pomfrey's skills were excellent, but delivering children was not something she felt happy to do without an expert at her side.

"Right, Mr Potter," she was all brisk professionalism as she swept into the space created by the screens, "Trousers off."

Harry stood up again with a sigh and undid them, shaking them loose and off. It was getting difficult to bend to pull them on in the morning, but Ron was always there to help with a kiss and smile. He knew that Madam Pomfrey would help him out too, but it wouldn't be half as much fun. He climbed back up and lay on his back, drawing his knees up a little to take the strain off his back. It was starting to ache a little in response to the weight of the Bump, and lying on his back with his legs flat was a little uncomfortable.

"Right, so how are we?" the school Matron ran her wand over him and the white mist that Harry was so familiar with as her diagnostic tool settled over him comfortably.

"Going the loo every three minutes because they're still using my bladder for a trampoline," Harry told her, his cheeks pinking up a little, "And I've developed a craving for some of the nastier Bertie Botts Beans. Ron's absolutely disgusted with me, but he fishes them out for me anyway."

"Hmm," she nodded and Harry watched as the white turned it's various colours, settling over his internal organs and the Bump. From his reading of the medical texts in the library, Harry had a vague idea of what the colours meant, and right now they were showing a deficiency in something. He hoped that didn't mean more potions. Even now the school kept a pretty close eye on him, and if he started taking potions daily again the rumours would fly once more.

"You need more iron," she informed him, then turned to look at the Bump. A smile spread slowly over her face and Harry propped himself up on his elbows. She didn't mind if he moved once the mist had settled into its colours, and Harry was interested in tracking the colours that settled over the Bump.

"And… we have a nice surprise here," she patted his hand gently, "The sex of the babies."

"Really?" Harry exclaimed, "We've chosen names already, and we're ready for the birth ceremony, or as ready as we can be."

Madam Pomfrey chuckled at him and touched the colours on his Bump. Harry shut his mouth with a snap, all too aware that he was in the habit of babbling nervously when it came to the children and their impending arrival. He couldn't show Ron how nervous he was, especially as his partner was nervous enough anyway, and he had no one else to talk this over with except Molly Weasley. There was no way he was going to entrust his fears to a letter, though, so it would have to wait until they had graduated from school.

"You need to eat more red meat and I can give you a supplement that you can take at night in your dorm," the school Matron was as aware of the scrutiny as he was, and Harry thanked her with a smile. She guided one of his hands over the Bump, telling him what was where and then let him up, helping him with his trousers and shoes. He restored the glamour charm and then hugged her, his eyes shining. Ron would be very pleased with this news.

0oo0oo0

Ron hurried into the library, relaxing when he saw Harry sitting with Hermione, their heads together over a book. His partner had attended his fortnightly check-up without him, due to the final Quidditch practice of the year. Gryffindor played Slytherin for the House Cup on Saturday. From the smile Harry gave him, there had been no bad news, and Ron settled onto the library bench next to him with a peck to the cheek.

"Hello pet," Ron muttered, "Alright, there?"

"Mm-hmm, we're fine," Harry nodded and Ron paid attention to the charms that his friends were revising.

Harry sat close at dinner and ate a little more spinach than was his wont. Ron tried to remember what that meant - some kind of deficiency, he knew that much - but Harry's fingers soothed him before he could start to fret.

Hermione had them back in the library after dinner, and for a moment Ron thought that Harry had grimaced in frustration before turning his attention to their studies. Neville had joined them as they went over the Herbology. Ron still couldn't get used to Neville's bright green hair, though their friend seemed very cheerful over it. The group finally split to go their separate ways when curfew had them back in the dorms, and Ron sealed their door shut while Harry put their books away and poured a glass of water from the carafe that Dobby left out for them.

"What is that?" Ron pounced on the small red pill that Harry had in his hand, and Harry gave the bottle over without a fight, downing the pill and stripping off his robes, "Iron? Your iron levels are low?"

"Only a little, and Madam Pomfrey wasn't worried about it at all," Harry told him firmly, dropping his clothes onto an armchair and walking to the bed in his briefs. Thoroughly distracted - as Harry no doubt intended - Ron shucked out of his clothes and followed.

Dobby had provided Harry with several nightshirts - the old fashioned sleepwear allowing him a lot of room to move in - decorated with lurid stripes. Harry pulled one on now and climbed into the bed, waiting impatiently for Ron to get changed and climb in with him. Ron sat beside his lover and watched in fascination as Harry pulled the nightshirt up enough to reveal the Bump, his dark hairy legs and bright orange briefs looking rather odd beneath it.

"She told me some important news today," Harry started, capturing Ron's hand, and the redhead felt a flash of fear. Reassurances to Hermione aside, Ron was borderline obsessed with keeping Harry healthy and happy. This last term of school was stressful enough for people who weren't pregnant and being sort of stalked by the Minister of Magic, which meant that Ron had a lot to worry about on Harry's behalf.

"I knew it! What's wrong? Should we go to St Mungo's? Maybe you should wait until Christmas to sit for your NEWTs - you're over tired, right?" Ron stopped only when Harry's mouth covered his, the limber tongue tangling around his until speech was impossible. Harry held him in the kiss until Ron felt faint then broke free, panting into his mouth, making certain parts of him sit up and beg.

"Shut it, Ron, you're babbling," his spouses voice was amused, tender and loving, and Ron relaxed. That tone would not be in evidence if Harry were about to tell him bad news. The hand that Harry held was guided to the Bump and pressed firmly until the baby beneath kicked at the restriction.

"That is Edwina," Harry informed him and moved his hand, "…and _that_ is Timothy," his hand was moved one more time, "…and _that_ is Lawrence. Your two sons and daughter."

Ron felt tears prick his eyes and he bent, kissing the three spots that Harry had shown him before leaning up to kiss Harry passionately. For the time being all his worries and half formed fears took a back seat to this single moment. They'd discussed the names and picked out for boys and girls. With Harry naming the children to him now, the unborn lives became so much more real to him.

"You're a marvel," Ron husked, "A bloody marvel."

0oo0oo0

Harry watched with his heart in his throat as Ron swooped down and kicked the quaffle away from the hoops, into Ginny's hands. He cheered loudly, waving the corner of the Gryffindor banner he held over his head, making it roar in triumph. Hermione had looked at him in disbelief when he'd unfurled the thing and activated the charm, but the younger members of his House had laughed and begged for an edge or corner to hold. Harry had waited until it was properly spread to lean into his friend and whisper in her ear.

"This is my last chance to cheer my spouse on from the sidelines."

She'd given him an understanding look and grin, and then shifted so her arm was around his shoulder and they were sharing the corner he held. She was just as excited as he was - the teams were level pegging, the scores never more than a single goal apart. The Chasers and Beaters were almost blurs of motion out there as the plays came fast and furious, each team striving to outdo the other. Malfoy was zooming almost desperately from side to side, seeking the snitch, and Beth moved a little more slowly, moving in endless laps around the pitch. Harry had seen the snitch four times this match, and had to sit on his hands to avoid pointing it out to anyone. He may be grounded, but that didn't mean the skills weren't still there and still viable. Right now, for instance, the snitch was hovering over Slytherins goals, and Harry was avoiding looking at them altogether.

The Bump shifted a little restlessly and Harry put his free hand to it, stroking reassurance to the babies, telling them how clever their father was being right now with a glow of pride. Hermione and the banner hid the action, so he wasn't too worried about being spotted. With only a short time left at school, Harry didn't want the news that he was _withchild_ floating around the corridors. It was almost embarrassing that he and Ron had been caught out like this.

Beth suddenly peeled off from her laps and zoomed past Malfoy - who was pointing in entirely the wrong direction - and Harry traced her course in the air, grinning when he spotted the snitch. Malfoy was on her tail now, and Harry cheered her on as she barged into her opponent, the action so unexpected she managed to knock him off course and gain some much needed ground. The snitch soared into the sky and Beth went after it fearlessly, stretching out her hand and plucking it from the air just as Malfoy barged into her as well.

"Yes!" Harry yelled and the banner roared its approval as Madam Hooch blew her whistle and the game ended. Dennis Creevey was cheering into his megaphone, and so was Professor McGonagall by the sound of it. Harry waved the banner wildly, cheering as his team converged on their new Seeker in a howling scrum of congratulations. The Slytherins were scowling as they headed for the ground and Madam Hooch spelled the first bludger back into its box. Malfoy, who was dawdling towards the ground - doubtless hoping to put off the remarks of his team captain for as long as possible - crossed the path of the second one, and didn't notice when it swung straight for him. Without thinking Harry whipped his wand out and vanished the bludger just as it headed for Malfoy's head, shouting the spell clearly and dropping the banner to stand for a clear shot. His Seeker reflexes stood the test as he beat even Madam Hooch to the spell - and her wand had already been in her hand. Malfoy jerked and almost slipped off his broom in astonishment, sending him a funny look.

"He's probably wondering why you didn't let it hit him," Hermione mumbled, "He's never believed that you don't hate Slytherin."

Harry shrugged in reply, putting his wand away and nodding once to his former opponent. He knew how painful a bludger hit was and didn't want to see anyone - not even an enemy - suffer an unnecessary hit. It was different in the middle of a game, you expected it; it was one of the common risks. He dismissed Malfoy from his thoughts and picked up his corner of the banner again, and shook it to make it roar once more as the Gryffindor's took a lap of honour around the pitch, Beth in the lead, the snitch still in her hand.

"What's the bet that she keeps it?" Harry asked with a laugh, seeing the tight grip she had on her prize. Hermione gave him a startled glance and raised her eyebrows in inquiry. Harry nodded in answer. The first snitch he'd ever caught was secreted away with his school things, he'd been very reluctant to give it back to Madam Hooch, though he knew that she had a pretty good idea where it was. She had very kindly refrained from demanding it back, giving implicit permission for him to keep it with her silence.

The Gryffindor's landed and the stands emptied as the House rushed to congratulate their team. Hermione helped Harry to fold up the banner, quieting the charm on it. Harry was a bit wary of going into that mob, even to congratulate his spouse, and a part of him wished that he didn't have to be so careful. He'd have preferred to be in the thick of things - in fact he'd have preferred to be the one to defeat Malfoy in this last match - but the Bump had to come first now.

"Harry!" Ron's voice shouted and Harry turned to look over the edge of the stands, grinning when he realised his partner was floating beside the stands, a hand held out. He took it without a second thought, climbing onto a bench and settling in front of Ron, sitting sideways on the broom. He wrapped an arm around his partner and laughed as Ron guided the broom away from the stands, relieved to be flying again, if only for a few brief seconds. Hermione's scolding faded away and Ron guided them towards the castle, flying low and slowly to prevent accidents.

"Madam Pomfrey better not catch us," Harry said breathlessly into Ron's ear, kissing it gently for good measure. Ron groaned and shifted a little in response, eliciting another laugh from Harry. His partner's ears were a sensitive spot - Harry could get him hard and aching just by nibbling and blowing on a single ear.

"Stop it or I'll crash," Ron growled and Harry stopped with a disappointed sigh. The steps loomed and Ron landed carefully, letting Harry slip from the handle to his feet lightly and shouldering his broom with a deft movement. He took Harry's hand and hurried him inside, ushering Harry up the stairs with a single-minded focus that had Harry tingling in anticipation. Scant minutes later they were hurrying past Wrestler and into the common room, their door slamming shut behind them. Harry pinned Ron to the door and blew in his ear again, getting his partner's undivided attention.

"Have I ever told you," Harry whispered into Ron's ear, and then sucked on the lobe briefly while the redhead quivered in delight, "How much of a turn on it is to do this in your Quidditch robes?"

"You pervert," Ron moaned helplessly as Harry nipped his ear lobe, clever fingers worming under the red and gold material, unfastening the white breeches and dipping in for their prize. Harry hummed as he sucked on Ron's ear seductively, enjoying the moans and sighs he was getting in response while Seeker fingers stroked and pulled on their favourite toy. Ron was rapidly losing the ability to stand and Harry dropped to his knees, sticking his head under the hot robes and replacing his fingers with his mouth.

Ron roared like the banner, his hips bucking as pleasure crashed over him in waves and Harry hummed in smug pleasure.

0oo0oo0

NEWT's weren't that different to OWL's in that the stress and anticipation had rapidly reached fever pitch among the seventh years. Ron had almost come to blows with Hermione over the amount of study time she wanted them to do, eventually he'd hauled her into their room, cast a silencing charm - the juniors were staring with unmitigated awe at their normally calm senior Prefects as they screamed at each other - and told her flat out that Harry wasn't sleeping well and Ron needed her to lay off his partner right now before he got too tired to be any use for anything.

Harry had not been best pleased when Ron and his new ally ganged up on him and told him flat out that he was to start going to bed early and rest more. Ron had put that little rebellion down with some difficulty, and had finally been forced to drag Harry off into their room and make him stand in front of the mirror. The glowing colour that his partner's face once held was a little faded, and Ron's heartfelt pleas had finally worked. Harry slept a bit better now that he wasn't studying day and night and Ron slept a lot better seeing the colour still in his spouse's face.

The examiners arrived as they had before - turning up just as breakfast finished. Professor Dumbledore greeted them with smiles and offers of tea, ushering them off to the staff room while the seventh and fifth years waited outside the now sealed Great Hall for their first written examination in Charms. Ron stood with an arm around Harry's waist, rubbing the small of his back in last minute reassurance - for them both. Harry's hand was tangled with Hermione's, giving her some of the comfort that Ron was giving him. This was their final step towards adulthood in the wizarding world, and it was a little daunting for Ron to think that this time next year he'd be a father of three babies, and working for the Ministry in a variety of roles.

Then the doors swung open and Ron leaned in to kiss Harry's cheek, then Hermione's.

"Let's go," he smiled, and Harry disentangled from them both, kissing them both in reply and smiling in his own turn.

"Bring it on," that little bit of bravado had Hermione chuckling and shaking her head as Ron led his friends in. They were all seated alphabetically, and Ron glanced at his friends as the papers were placed on the table in front of him. He listened to Flitwick's speech about the anti-cheating spells in place on the Hall, quills and parchment and picked up his quill in readiness. The hourglass at the front turned over and he turned to the first question, brows furrowed in concentration.

Two hours later, they were ushered out for dinner, and then the practical would be held and they'd be free to indulge in last minute revision for the next test. Harry didn't seem too worried and Hermione had wisely refrained from asking what answers they'd given to each question, perhaps not willing to risk another shouting match with Ron, who hated taking the test twice.

Dinner was a hearty meal, and Ron felt better once his stomach was full. From the smile in Harry's eyes, his partner had also been drooping a little, and the meal was a timely reviver. He noticed that Harry pocketed several pieces of fruit for while he waited, and stroked approval of the idea into Harry's thigh, pocketing a few for himself. The seventh and fifth years waited in the Great Hall for their turn at the practical examination, the two side rooms that the castle had kindly arranged for them to hold their practical tests in reached by two new side doors.

Ron watched Hermione being summoned to her Charms practical and smiled reassuringly at her. There had been a rather loud noise from the fifth year's examination room about twenty minutes ago, and he hoped that whoever had blown up their eggcup had at least managed to demonstrate some cartwheels first. Harry waved the orange peel in his hand in salute and slipped a segment into his mouth, sucking for the juice and swallowing the remaining pulp.

"Potter, how can you eat?" Malfoy shuddered from the seat opposite, "If I tried to swallow anything now it would come back up."

"I can either eat an orange or faint halfway through from hunger," Harry replied absently, "I wouldn't have thought you'd be this nervous."

Ron watched as the blonde Slytherin shifted on his seat uneasily.

"Now that father is gone," Malfoy admitted reluctantly, "There's a lot more riding on my ability to get a good job. Mother needs a lot of support, and I won't let her down."

"You know," Ron mused, "The Ministry isn't the only employer going, Draco. If you needed to stay in England there are quite a few positions going at various Potion Laboratories. That's always been your best subject."

"Why do you care?" Malfoy sneered, "It's not as if you need to worry, Weasley. You've got a job custom made for you already."

"One that I had thrust on me without anyone except Harry consulting me if I wanted it," Ron returned evenly, "We were going to be Aurors, not Ministry Wizards. And maybe I don't care, but I've never liked to see anyone treated unfairly. It's always seemed stupid to pick on someone because of who their parents were."

Harry and Malfoy's names were called then and Ron leaned back to watch his partner head for the examination room. He hoped that Malfoy had at least listened to what he'd said. He didn't want to see his old enemy put in a bad position just because his father was a power hungry idiot. In a way, the death of Lucius Malfoy had been the best thing that could have happened to Draco. Now he had a chance to be his own person.

0oo0oo0

"I can't believe you talked me into this!" Harry muttered, his fingers slightly slippery on his wand as the school waited restlessly on the other side of the curtains. Ron laughed lightly and kissed his cheek, caressing the Bump as he pulled back.

"It's just a bit of fun. It's traditional," Ron soothed, and Harry rolled his eyes, shaking his head in disgust and folding his arms. Ron's eyes lit up in response to the wordless challenge and his partner leaned in to kiss the temper off Harry's face. They were wearing their leathers - Harry's greatly altered around the waist despite the glamour charms - and Hermione had nearly drooled all over them when she'd first seen them. Harry was close to drooling now Ron's talented tongue was tangling with his.

NEWTs and the Leaving Feast were over, and the teachers dais had become the 'stage' for the traditional seventh year entertainment, complete with velvet drapes to allow them to change the props and such in privacy. Each student in their year was somehow involved in putting on a display of magical prowess and 'talent'. There would be all sorts of acts, plays, tricks, comedy and singing, and their peers had decided that Harry and Ron would open the show.

"Oi!" Hermione hissed as she walked onto the stage littered with musical instruments, "Will you two get over it already!"

Harry grinned sheepishly as he pulled back. His hormones were still stuck in the 'horny teenager' stage, and the whole _withchild_ thing had only enhanced the affect. Ron had certainly never complained about it. Ron nuzzled him one more time, and leaned back, grinning at their friend.

"You're just jealous," he teased lightly, "You want a Harry of your own."

"Well, he's taken, so I guess I'll have to look elsewhere," Hermione teased in return and leaned in for a kiss of her own, laughing as Harry blushed bright red in response. She pulled back and headed for the curtains, "Time to show everyone what we're made of."

"Literally?" Harry asked, looking at her costume in amazement. Hermione was a beautiful young woman and her very tight and short school uniform showed that off very nicely indeed, "Hermy we want them concentrating on the show, not your… attributes."

"Neville wasn't complaining," Hermione smiled sweetly at them and slipped through the gap to get the audience's attention. Harry laughed, listening to the wolf whistles and yells of approval from the school as Ron chuckled and moved away to his mark. He was still laughing as Hermione stepped back inside and hurried off stage, turning at the last minute to wave her wand at the curtains, causing them to rise slowly.

The bond hummed and Harry turned partially so he could see the audience and the instruments lying on the ground. Ron was in place opposite him and grinning in sympathy. The bond hummed easily to life and Harry took a deep breath, waving his wand almost casually. Ron had chosen this Muggle song for them, and Harry had agreed in a heartbeat. If they were going to be stuck opening the show they might as well open it with a little style. The music reached its crescendo and Harry took a deep breath for the first verse as Ron took over the bond to keep the instruments in time.

"Hell is gone and Heavens here, there's nothing left for you to fear, shake your arse, come over here, now scream!" Harry sang strongly, glad his throat was well and truly healed despite the amplification spells put on the stage. He sent a jet of sparks into the air, singing the next bit with a grin and a wink at the audience as the sparks swirled around the stage, forming the vague outline of a man, "I'm a burning effigy of everything I used to be, you're my rock of empathy, my dear!"

He blew Ron a kiss and swayed his hips a little, transforming the sparks into a chorus line of knee high pixies that danced around gleefully while he sang the chorus to the crowd.

"So come on! Let me! Entertain you! Let me! Entertain you!" he stepped back, banished the pixies with a casual flick and let Ron take over the second verse, grinning as the bond surged at his touch to keep the instruments in time with the driving beat. Ron's tenor voice picked up the lyrics without a pause, swaying his hips in reply.

"Life's too short for you to die, so grab yourself an alibi! Heaven knows your mother lied, mon cher!" Ron sent a second shower of sparks in the green and silver of Slytherin into the air, letting them swirl around the instruments in dizzying pattern as he sung the next line with all his heart. Unity was the school's aim here, and he didn't want to see it die because it's founder's were gone, "Separate your right from wrongs, come and sing a different song, the kettle's on so don't be long, mon cher!"

The sparks transformed to furry little critters that started tumbling all over the stage, hopping about in a series of lively acrobatics and Ron took a deep breath and launched into the chorus.

"So come on! Let me! Entertain you! Let me! Entertain you!" he winked at the audience and relaxed back into the bond, the hum vibrating from Harry to him, leaving behind an enervating tingle that Harry used to keep the sheer energy on the stage going. He conjured up a copy of the Muggle yellow pages as he started the third verse, his wand whipping smartly through the air to manipulate the object into a series of spins which shot illusions from the pages, showing Colin Creevey's pictures of school life, especially the seventh years until all their faces were floating on the stage, mouthing along to the words he was singing.

"Look me up in the yellow pages! I will be your rock of ages - your see through fads and your crazy phases, yeah! Little Bo Peep has lost his sheep, he dropped a potion and fell asleep, the dew is wet, but the grass is sweet my dear!"

Ron took a deep breath and joined the bridging passage, the bond shared equally between them as they sung and swayed with the sheer energy they were generating. Sparks were shooting from the tips of their wands now, showering the stage in the overflow of Magic they were creating.

"Your mind gets burned with the habits you've learned, but we're the generation that's gonna be heard! We're tired of our teachers and our school's a drag! We're not gonna end up like our mums and dads! So come on! Let me! Entertain you! Let me! Entertain you! Let me! Entertain you! Let me! Entertain you!"

Harry could hear laughter from the audience and flicked his wand, levitating the leaving presents that the seventh years had brought for their teachers, giving them easily to Ron, who sent them into the laps of the staff. There were a few cheers and they sung the last verse together, eyes bright with humour and their bond. The faces of their peers faded away and the sparks that had been sheeting over the stage floor whirled up to take their place, taking on the House colours and forming the school crest, sparkling between them as they sung.

"He may be good, he may be out of sight! But he can't be here, so come around tonight - here is the place where the feeling grows! Ya gotta get high before you taste the lows! Let me! Entertain you! Let me! Entertain you! Let me! Entertain you! Let me! Entertain you! Come on, come on, come on, come on! Come on, come on, come on, come on! Come on, come on, come onnnnn! Come on, come on, come on, come on! Come on, come on, come on, come on! Come on, come on, come onnnnn!"

The crest blew out over the audience, raining sparks down on them lightly, causing a few squeals, but mostly laughs and applause as they lowered the curtains on the finale, letting the final notes fade out. Harry gasped for breath as the audience on the other side of the curtain yelled and cheered and smiled at his partner, using the fading bond to banish the instruments they'd used so the next act could prepare. Ron walked across the stage and folded Harry into a sweaty hug, kissing him soundly.

They moved off the stage, sneaking into the empty row of seats at the back of the Great Hall to watch their peers, hands tangled and speaking complex messages of love and fidelity.

0oo0oo0

"Well, if you ever get fired from the Ministry, you could take up entertainment," Malfoy drawled as he joined them and Ron laughed, too happy to take any offence.

"We'll start a band," he agreed, "You've got a decent voice."

"Thanks," Malfoy looked a little startled at the compliment, and then sneered in a more familiar manner, "Better than yours, Weasley."

Ron laughed, and Harry relaxed at his side. He knew his partner had been waiting for him to react angrily to the comments, but was determined not to spoil their last school night with a fight. Crabbe and Goyle settled into the seats besides Malfoy, nodding to the partners in hello, but more interested in the skit on the stage where several Ravenclaws were practicing quick change in order to give a caricature of their teachers.

"You look good in a skirt, too," Ron added, waving to the hot pink sheath that Malfoy was wearing, "Though you could have shaved!"

"I did!" Malfoy ran a puzzled hand over his smooth chin and Ron chuckled, leaning down to run a hand over the blonde Prefect's leg, careful not to go above his knee. After all, teasing was well and good, but he was loyal to his Harry.

"I wasn't talking about your chin!" he teased lightly, and was amazed when Draco went beet red and spluttered in response to the touch. Ron left his fingers resting on the blonde's knee, tracing the kneecap to get a better response. Malfoy squirmed in his seat.

"Potter! Control him!" the embarrassed man snapped and Harry reached over absently, capturing Ron's hand and giving him a more familiar leg to touch.

"Now dear, don't tease," Harry said quietly, and Malfoy went even redder when he saw the redhead's fingers flexing idly on the leather-clad thigh. He coughed and looked away and Ron leaned into Harry with a smile and whispered apology. The audience howled with laughter and Ron looked up in time to recognise that the people on stage had just recreated Boggart Snape.

Ron's head whipped around and spotted the glare his Potion master was wearing, laughing as hard as anyone else. Neville's grandmother was in the audience and her hat shook wildly with the force of her hilarity. The group from Ravenclaw changed back to themselves and took their bows, running off the stage lightly as the audience clapped and cheered.

"Ten points from Ravenclaw," Snape called after them to light hearted boos. The point system was over for the year, so it was an empty threat. Ron had the distinct impression that their irascible Potions master was rather enjoying himself, and had his suspicions confirmed in the form of a chuckle from Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle.

"Listen," Malfoy said to Ron quietly, "There's a rumour that Fudge is going to make some sort of announcement at the end of all this about you two working for him at the Ministry."

"Bugger," Ron frowned, "Thanks for the warning."

"I had an idea you might like to try," Malfoy continued, waving the thanks off. He outlined it and Ron chuckled in appreciation. It was a true Slytherin touch, and one the bond could manage easily.

"Why are you interested?" Harry's question was lightly asked, his face as friendly towards Malfoy as Ron had ever seen it.

"I talked to Professor Snape about what you said. He's arranging an apprenticeship for me," Malfoy shrugged, "I think he was… relieved."

"None of us wants to see you… you know…," Ron shrugged, "We might not like you, but we don't hate you either."

"Fair enough," Malfoy nodded, and then fell silent as the Ravenclaw group reached them. Ron settled in next to his partner to watch the rest of the show, laughing and applauding with the rest, enjoying the stress relief as much as anyone. Hermione and Neville took off their partnership, lampooning them as terribly inept and clumsy, which they stood and applauded for, tears of laughter streaming down their faces. Harry sent a stream of flowers showering down on their friends, then yelled,

"Whoops! That was supposed to be toads!" to screaming laughter from the audience.

0oo0oo0

/ready/ Harry asked as Fudge swept onto the stage, beaming in a most revolting fashion at the audience. From the restless shifting of the audience and the teachers this was not a popular move on the part of Minister. His beam faltered a little, showing that he hadn't failed to notice, and Professor Dumbledore shifted uneasily in his seat.

/ready/ Ron's fingers were shaking with laughter, and Harry grinned, casting the first illusion spell above the Minister. The puppets strings and crossbar had people snickering in their seats as Fudge droned on about the 'talented generation of young Witches and Wizards about to make their way in the world'. Ron changed the strings to a chorus line of dancing pixies, which performed a series of impressive acrobatics behind him. Titters and giggles broke out through the audience, and Fudge faltered in his speech for a moment and Ron vanished the pixies before the Minister spotted them.

Harry created an illusion behind the Minister next, a reflection of the audience, altered so they were all asleep from boredom, reading a newspaper, playing Wizard chess, and a few other diversions that had them laughing outright. Neville's grandmother actually copied her reflection, pulling out some knitting and sending the needles flying busily.

Fudge whipped around and scowled at the illusion that Harry left for him to see. The Minister went a bit red and turned back to look at the benches where the seventh years sat. Harry and Ron's wands were clearly visible, though they didn't need them for such simple magic anymore. Ron created a small image of Fudge in his underwear, casting it behind the students in clear warning of what would come next if he didn't close his remarks right now, without making any reference to the partners. The Minister swallowed and closed his remarks swiftly. Harry and Ron banished their illusions and clapped politely with the rest of the school when Fudge finished up.

/that was far too much fun/ Harry sniggered into Ron's waist /we're going to pay for that/

/it was worth it/ Ron's fingers rubbed over his and Harry nodded his agreement. He looked up as his partner stood and got up too, following along at Ron's silent request. Ron led him to the middle of the aisle and turned to face him. Harry's eyes widened when he realised what Ron was doing - honouring a promise made a year ago to his despondent lover. Ron's warm lips and strong arms were a welcome haven and Harry enjoyed the kiss thoroughly, though they kept it fairly chaste.

"Ron and Harry, sitting in a tree!" Hermione's voice rang out and the rest of the Muggle borns from all the year levels joined in, shouting the rest of the verse gleefully, "K I double S I N G! First comes love, then comes marriage! Here comes Harry with a baby carriage!"

Harry's fingers asked permission, and Ron gave it lovingly. He dropped the glamour charm, bowed to his friends in the back row and led Ron out of the Great Hall with a huge smile.

0oo0oo0


	19. Epilogue A

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Further warnings: Let's finish off the Fudge… Sappy and cute stuff coming up! All lose ends tied off, all clichés uttered.

****

Sympathetic Magic: Part Ten - Epilogue

They'd sent the trunks on ahead by magic, instructing them to appear in the attic so as not to clutter the house unnecessarily. They'd said goodbye-for-now to Ginny, Hermione and Neville before heading out to Potters Field. Ron sneezed a little in the dusty kitchen air and Harry chuckled, moving to open the windows and the top leaf of the back door to let in some air. They'd have to clean the place thoroughly, but the use of magic would make it go much quicker.

"Get upstairs and start opening the doors and windows," he told Ron firmly, heading in to the laundry to get the windows there, and pull out the cloths and polish tins that were stored there with the rest of the cleaning equipment. He heard Ron walking about above his head, the rumble of a window, or click of a door sounding each time the footsteps stopped. Then Ron went further upstairs and Harry concentrated on setting his kitchen to rights, sending the rag rugs flying outside to hang over the line and banishing dust with a flick of his wand.

He walked up to the next floor, dusting the stairs as he went. The front door was wide open as well, and late morning sunlight was streaming through the fanlight above it, their family crest etched into the glass and shadowed onto the wooden floor. It took him half an hour to get the rooms there cleaned to his standards - as trained by Aunt Petunia. He could hear Ron shifting trunks around upstairs. Between the two of them they had managed to accrue an incredibly large amount of _things_ at school. There were books and clothes and equipment and keepsakes from all sorts of times and places. They'd had a fairly large amount of left over potion ingredients, and were planning to build up their stock of ingredients as soon as possible by owl mail. The rear part of the laundry had been made into a neat little potion brewing area, with secure cupboards to ensure that no one could pick up dangerous ingredients or potions by accident.

Once he was satisfied with the living areas, Harry headed up the stairs, dusting as he went. Ron had piled the trunks of books at the head of the stairs and Harry put his cleaning supplies down to levitate the trunks back down the stairs, unpacking them onto the shelves with a flick of his wand, rearranging them with his wand until they were in the kind of order that a library would use. The more serious texts went into the library room, and the Muggle fiction went into the front room. Various knickknacks and photos were scattered through the shelves and over mantelpieces.

Harry sent the empty trunks zooming back up to the attic, peeked in on Ron who was scrubbing the bathroom diligently, and climbed up to the fourth floor to air and clean it thoroughly, then headed up the stairs to the attic to ensure the now unused trunks were stacked away neatly. He blasted the dust out of there as well and then headed back down the stairs. Ron had put away their clothes, put fresh linen on the bed, placed the books they were currently reading on the bedside cabinets, and was now airing Hermione's room.

"We'll have to add a nursery to this floor, and maybe move the two guest rooms up to the fourth floor," Harry told Ron's backside. Ron waved it at him in acknowledgement and then crawled out. Harry snickered, leaning against the door, watching his partner with a leer pasted on his face.

"I think we should keep Hermy and Ginny's room down here," Ron wiped a smut over his nose and Harry shook his head, pulling his clean hanky out of a pocket and leaning in to clean it off.

"They both said to me that they wouldn't mind if we put their room up a floor, but I don't know. It seems like we're saying that they're not as much a part of our family as they always were. The other room is different, we didn't decorate it for anyone," Ron put a dusty arm around Harry, and he leaned into the simple contact. He nodded his agreement into a strong shoulder.

"Are you done?" he asked Ron who nodded in turn and kissed Harry's hair, making a disgusted noise as he tasted the dust in the dark strands. Harry chuckled and pulled back. They were still wearing their school uniforms, which they had put on this morning before leaving the school more from habit than anything else.

"Then I think that we should have a bath," Harry suggested in a voice thick with meaning, "What do you think?"

"Bath," Ron turned Harry around and started pushing gently to get him moving. Harry laughed and dug his heels in just enough to make his partner work for it. Sometimes getting there was half the fun.

0oo0oo0

Harry looked up as the gate in the lane clicked quietly. Ron had gone to the village on the bike to replenish their supplies, and Harry had been lured into the garden by the promise of warm heady scents. The hedge had grown quickly while they were away, and Harry had removed the spell now that it was tall enough to hide the ground floor windows. He'd spotted a few weeds in the various beds and put his glamour charms back on so he could weed in peace. It wouldn't do to startle any passing Muggles, not that their lane saw a lot of foot traffic.

He spotted the familiar green pinstripe immediately and sighed. He really didn't want to deal with Fudge alone - or at all - but Ron would be another hour at least. They'd had plenty of fresh stuff from the garden - the anti bird wards had preserved the vegetable patch nicely, and Neville had cast a few healing spells on their old apple and plum tree, rejuvenating them once they had recovered from years of neglect and poor soil. Sheep were not the best of gardeners, and those trees hadn't been pruned in ages. Harry was planning to harvest their budding fruit in autumn and preserve it. There were even a few jam recipes he'd like to try. The vegetable patch had sustained them through last night - not that they were interested in eating with the whole house empty and their libido's given free and pleasurable reign.

"Good morning Minister," Harry bit back his sigh and Fudge leapt forward with his hands out, as if to help Harry to his feet. Harry beat him to it, not intending to let the man touch him if at all possible, "To what do we owe the pleasure?"

"I was hoping to talk to you, Harry," Fudge glanced around, his thinning hair floating a little in the breeze, "Is Ron here?"

"He'll be back any minute," Harry shrugged, dusting his dirty hands together and watching the other Wizard closely, "It's not a good time for us, though. Can we make an appointment for tomorrow?"

"Actually, I only wanted a quick word," Fudge smiled and looked over the house with interest. Harry glanced at the walls covered with rambling roses, the vines not very thick but supported by a trellis-like spell that would help them stay in place until they strengthened. He didn't want Fudge inside, his instincts screaming that something was wrong, so Harry led the way to the birch tree and the bench that he and Hermione had built from a Muggle kit and then improved a little with magic.

He waved Fudge to a seat and sat down at the other end, freezing the man where he was with a glare when the Minister made as if to move closer. Harry was feeling ridiculously exposed here - he hadn't even worn Wizarding robes out into the garden, settling for loose shorts and a t-shirt in order to be comfortable in the heat with his expanding belly. His wand was inside atop their CD collection, though he could defend himself without it if he needed to.

"What did you want to talk about?" Harry reminded the Minister, thinking how tired the man looked. Fudge started a little and offered an apologetic smile that Harry didn't buy for a moment.

"I was just thinking that you'd never know that two good people had died here," Fudge smiled in a sickly fashion, "I suppose you haven't seen any ghosts or anything floating around here?"

"No, I haven't," Harry snapped, the warmth of the sun suddenly failing to reach his skin. He felt his pulse speed up, adrenaline flushing his system as his body reacted to the verbal lash. He'd always hoped that wherever they were, his parents would have approved his decision to rebuild here. Ron had never mentioned any unease about rebuilding, though Harry realised that to some in the Wizarding world his decision might seem ghoulish.

"Well, that's good then," Fudge smiled, "Ghosts can be such bothersome things. They always see the things you don't want them to."

Harry tensed in anticipation as Fudge shifted on the bench, and shouted the shield spell as the Minister pulled out his wand. He lunged upright and ran for the house, not as well balanced or fast as he would have liked as the Bump threw his timing and speed off. Something impacted his shield and Harry grunted in effort, shoring it up desperately, the safety of the front door in sight. Doors and windows were slamming shut all over the house in response to Harry's panicked command, shutters springing into place to additionally protect the glass, and he skittered inside the door, slamming it shut against the next hex, hearing the spell impact and scorch the wood.

He had only two choices, stay and fight or get to safety and protect the children he still carried. Hoping that Ron could forgive him for running instead of staying, Harry Apparated, seeking the shelter of the Burrow.

"Harry!" Molly shrieked as he appeared in her kitchen, panting for air and staggering in place. She threw her arms around him and he grasped her shoulders, shaking her a little to get her attention as she asked him hurried, fearful questions.

"Fudge is at the house! He's throwing hexes around! Ron's in the village, he doesn't know!" he gasped as the babies protested the flood of adrenaline still surging through their connection, and groaned, doubling over with an arm around the Bump.

"Mum I left him! I didn't warn him! Get the Aurors!" Harry begged as she pulled him by main force over to a chair and sat him down. He watched through tear filled eyes as she threw Floo powder into her hearth and connected them to the Aurors department. Kingsley Shacklebolt answered her cry for help, and she relayed what Harry had said in a few terse words.

"Kingsley - he's not himself!" Harry called, "You must be careful!"

"Do you think it's the Imperio Curse?" Kingsley asked, not arguing with Harry's panicked words, earning the dark haired mans eternal gratitude. He had distanced himself from the Order of the Phoenix after Sirius' death, and the partnership had made placing themselves under one persons command seem unwise. Not even Professor Dumbledore could claim sole command of the pair, though they were most likely to do his bidding.

"I don't know," Harry shook his head helplessly, "But you've got to hurry - Ron's going to come back from the village and right into a trap! He'll know there's something wrong, because I used the bond to get away!"

"All right Harry, we'll deal with it now," Kingsley nodded and pulled his head out of the fire. Arthur Weasley Disapparated in the kitchen, startling Harry so badly that he threw a defensive shield over himself and Molly, making ready to fight off another attack.

"Arthur!" Molly exclaimed and Harry let the shield dissolve. His father-in-law hurried over to his side and hugged him briefly. Harry sagged into the offered support and then pulled away, intending to ask Arthur to head Ron off.

"Are you hurt? I was in Shaklebolt's office when Molly called," Arthur looked him over carefully and Harry shook his head in denial. Before he could open his mouth to reply, Arthur stood up and stepped back, looking at his worried wife.

"I'll head to the Field right now - don't worry Harry," the words were for him, but the look was for his mother-in-law, and Harry nodded miserably, biting his lip. Arthur disappeared with a sharp crack and Harry straightened up in the chair. The full realisation of his cowardly actions came crashing down around his ears and he shuddered hard where he sat. Awful nightmarish possibilities were dancing before his eyes, and there was an awful burning weight on his chest.

"I ran, mum, I left him behind," tears spilled over his cheeks and Molly put her arms around him immediately, giving him her shoulder to shelter on as he crashed from adrenaline rebound. Molly shushed under her breath and rubbed a hand between his shoulders.

"Harry, right now you have to protect yourself," she reasoned softly, "If you get hurt, your babies could get hurt. Being _withchild_ makes you much more vulnerable because you have to protect them as well as yourself. Ron will be fine, and when he gets here he'll agree that you should have done exactly what you did."

Harry shook his head miserably and prayed she was right. If he lost Ron it would be the end of his world.

0oo0oo0

Ron slowed as he spotted the familiar shape of his father on the side of the road. His dad was waving at him urgently and he slowed the bikes headlong rush to get back to the Field. Harry had used the bond to deflect a spell being cast at him, then locked the house down tightly. The ring on his finger was throbbing along at a frightening pace and Ron had abandoned his full trolley to run headlong from the store.

"Dad! What's happening!" Ron yanked the bike to a stop and leapt off it. His dad grabbed his arm and looked around hurriedly.

"Harry's not hurt, he's at the Burrow - I want you to go there right now. I'll take the bike to the Field," his father said quickly and Ron yanked the helmet off, puzzled. How had the Death Eaters found them?

"Who attacked him? How did they find us?" Ron handed the helmet over to his father, and watched him buckle it on with swift fingers.

"We're not sure - there are Aurors at the Field now, I'll come home when we know what was going on," Arthur mounted the bike, "Go to Harry!"

Ron nodded and stepped back, Disapparating smartly. The kitchen was empty, but Harry was sobbing on a dining chair, with his mother kneeling in front of him, rubbing his shoulders in an attempt to comfort her distraught son-in-law. The sound of his arrival had a shield snapping into place around them both, the bond tingling with it as Harry's head jerked up off her shoulder to face the new arrival.

"Ron!" Harry shrieked and Ron hurried over, his mother moving aside so Ron could take her place, filling the arms that were reaching for him so urgently.

"I left you!" Harry sobbed and Ron understood exactly what the problem was with just those three words. Harry never left anyone behind in a dangerous situation. He was always the last one out, watching over his friends and companions tirelessly. Today he had to run first, to protect the children he carried, which meant that he'd left Ron to face whatever dangers were waiting at the Field alone.

"Good," Ron crooned softly, "You did exactly the right thing, mate. You had to protect our children, Harry, you had no other choice."

Harry hid his face in Ron's neck, the glasses digging into the skin there uncomfortably. Ron shifted his hands and managed to pull the glasses off, dropping them onto the table before resuming his massage of the small of Harry's back. His spouse was beside himself and from the little hitches in his breathing, the babies were not impressed that their father was in such an awful state.

"Mum, can you help me move him to a bed? He needs to lie down," Ron asked softly and felt his mother's hands join his. Between them they got Harry upright and up the stairs, despite his obvious wish to simply wrap himself around Ron and stay there. Ron's old room was totally bare, but he didn't really notice as he climbed onto the bed and let Harry find the most comfortable position for them both.

He curled close and kissed the dark hair, his hands roaming over the strong back, relieved beyond words that Harry had thrown his principles out the window to protect himself and their babies. He shushed and hummed and crooned, doing everything he knew to get Harry to relax and let go into sleep. His fingers traced his praise and love along Harry's spine, reassuring his partner that Ron totally agreed with his decision to run for safety. Molly sat with them, her hand tightly around Ron's ankle, watching as Harry's energy slowly ran out and he slid into fitful sleep. She squeezed the ankle she held and let go, getting up and leaving for a moment, returning with a wet flannel.

Ron wiped the warm cloth over Harry's tearstained face tenderly, crooning soft reassurance when he stirred before settling him back into position. Molly took the cloth from him and draped it over the windowsill, looking out at the garden and fields beyond.

"Mum, what happened?" Ron whispered, kissing Harry's hair again. Molly shook her head and turned to look at him, a grim expression on her face. Ron hadn't seen her look this upset since that snake had mauled his father.

"He said that Minister Fudge attacked him," she shook her head, "He was too upset to get much out beyond that - he was terrified that you'd be hurt or walking into a trap alone."

"Is Fudge insane?" Ron hissed and then had to shush Harry again as he stirred fitfully. Molly waved for him to keep his voice down and Ron resisted the impulse to hit her with the old Prefect's glare. His mother would not be amused.

"Harry said he wasn't himself," Molly shrugged, "Your father will tell us the whole story when he gets back. Harry's going to need to take it easy for a few days, dear. When a person's _withchild_ it tends to take a little longer to recover from severe shocks like this."

"Once the house is secure we'll head back and he can rest there," Ron sighed, "Poor Harry. He never gets a break."

"He's strong," Molly said bracingly, and Ron smiled a little sadly. His spouse was very strong, but that didn't mean he should have to put up with attack after disaster after disappointment. He made a decision not to leave Harry alone again - they'd go around together or not at all. That would lift some of the burden for Harry, and he'd be able to spoil his partner rotten.

0oo0oo0

"Harry," the voice was soft and beguiling, and Harry followed it willingly, forsaking the warm comfortable darkness. He was greeted with a kiss and petting, and he cuddled close to the warm salty bread smell that said 'Ron' and 'safe'. The warm, comfortable body against his chuckled softly.

"Time to wake up, pet," Ron's voice coaxed and Harry shook his head stubbornly. Waking up meant dealing with the world and he had a vague idea that the world was not a happy place just at this moment. He was kissed again and tender fingers stroked over his eyes.

"Show me those green eyes, hmmm?" the request was so soft that Harry had to follow it, opening his eyes reluctantly and sighing. Ron chuckled and Harry blinked at him, wondering when they'd gone to bed. He tensed as he remembered what had happened and then relaxed again into Ron's arms. Ron wouldn't be holding him close like this if he was hurt, and they would have woken him quickly if there were danger. Despite the sleep he'd just had, Harry felt tired and his head ached a little.

"Come on ducks," Ron said lightly, "We'll clean up a bit and have some breakfast. That will cure your headache. Mum wants to feed you before we go home."

He felt a warm glow suffuse through him with the knowledge that his partner knew him so well that he'd detected Harry's discomfort as if it was his own. That sort of care was a luxury that he knew he'd never get used to.

"What happened? Was it Fudge?" Harry wasn't awake enough to ask coherent questions, and Ron kissed his nose before getting up and pulling Harry with him. His body felt a bit heavy and slow this morning, as if he'd been working hard and long.

"I'll tell you when you wake up," Ron promised and Harry followed him to the bathroom, recognising vaguely that they were at the Burrow and it was morning. Ron ushered him down the stairs and onto a seat at the table, popped his glasses on his face and handed him a bit of toast before Harry registered that there were other people around. He woke up enough to say good morning to Ginny and his parents-in-law, receiving understanding smiles in response.

He revived over breakfast and got up, against Ron's wishes, to carry plates to the sink. Molly shooed him back to the table and Arthur cleared his throat to get their attention.

"Fudge is in custody," he said straight away, "The Aurors are going over his house and office with a fine toothed comb, but he made a confession of sorts when he woke up from their stunning spells, so there's no great mystery about what happened."

Harry took Ron's hand, rubbing the slender fingers between his to reassure himself that Ron was at his side and unharmed. Ron shifted to lean his shoulder into Harry's and Arthur smiled at them both fondly. Molly was sitting with her arm around Ginny, and Harry took a moment to reflect on how lucky he was that this family had opened its arms to him.

"He wasn't under the Imperio Curse," Arthur sighed, "But he was working for the Death Eaters. It seems they made a deal, that if he killed you and Ron then they would see to it that he was re-elected for another eight years. They were going to turn in their lesser members that are still free in small numbers over the course of the next eight years to ensure that Fudge remained in office for a long time and could influence the laws and Aurors in their favour."

"Bloody hell," Ron swore softly, "So now they know where the Field is?"

"No," Arthur replied before Harry could start to get really worried, "Fudge didn't tell them that because he didn't know it himself at the time. He said that they'd know when the deal was done by the headlines in the Daily Prophet, and then they'd get together again and plan how to fix the election. They're planning to dose him with veritaserum this afternoon to make sure he's telling the truth."

"How did he find the Field?" Ginny frowned, asking the question Harry most wanted answered. If the Death Eaters had tracked them down then they might have to think about abandoning their home, "It isn't even connected to the Floo network yet, is it?"

"He talked to Percy," Arthur said heavily, "I'm sorry, boys, Percy didn't think there would be any harm in the Minister knowing where you were."

Ron growled something under his breath and Harry sighed. Percy seemed to think that the higher your position in the Ministry the worthier of trust and confidence you became. His brother-in-law would also have seized the opportunity to make himself more important in Fudge's eyes. Percy's ambition was almost a frightening thing, and Harry wondered why he hadn't been sorted into Slytherin.

"It doesn't matter any more," Harry patted Ron's leg, "He'll know better next time. Can we go home, now? I'd… like to check the house is ok…"

"Of course you can dear," Molly smiled, "And I'll be down to visit you tomorrow. We'll have a nice little chat."

"Harry - I didn't get the groceries!" Ron groaned and Harry laughed, getting up from the table. Ginny said that she'd go back to the Field with them and Ron could try again. Harry backed her up when Ron showed every sign of wanting to glue himself to Harry's side for the rest of his time _withchild_. He refused to cower in the house, afraid to be apart from Ron. They were stuck with each other and that was how it was going to stay.

0oo0oo0

"You want to go on a honeymoon?"

Ron watched Harry's eyes rekindle with animation. Fudge's attempt on his life had taken some of the zest from his partner's eyes, and Ron was determined to see his partner regain the animation he'd had before. Harry had been really happy at the house up until that point, and Ron had been very relaxed about their safety. He wasn't exactly running around shouting 'Harry Potter lives here', but he wasn't waiting to be attacked either. Now he had to ensure that he was more vigilant about Harry's safety without smothering his stubborn partner with his attentions. He was recalled when Harry reached out and put a hand on his arm, green eyes inquiring where his thoughts had taken him.

"Yeah, I thought I'd take my half of our last brewing fee and take you for a nice little trip somewhere, as a honeymoon," Ron grinned and took his partner into his arms, "Just you, me and the Bump. I'm sure Ginny will housesit for us for a week."

"Where were you planning on going?" Harry asked, thinking it over and Ron snorted, startling his spouse out of his musings. Questioning green eyes met his as the Bump rubbed lightly against his belly. Ron licked Harry's nose, grinning at the resulting face and squirm.

"_We_ are going to Rome for a week," Ron informed him loftily, "I've got it all planned. We're even taking Muggle transport."

That had been half the fun, for Ron, finding out how Muggles usually travelled to other countries and then organising it for himself and his spouse, picking the most comfortable options he could find so that Harry would be pampered from the very start. He'd even organised the Human equivalent of port keys.

"Uh, Ron," Harry squirmed, pulling back from their hug as the Bump stirred and Harry tried to catch his breath. The triplets were very active at the moment, and had Harry dashing to the bathroom at odd intervals. Ron let go reluctantly, grinning in sympathy as Harry almost waddled off to the bathroom. He followed Harry into the hall and when his partner returned he took the other mans hand and led him up the stairs to their bedroom.

Harry baulked at the door, giving him a mutinous look and shaking his head.

"I don't want a nap," Harry protested and Ron shook his head. Naps were not negotiable as far as he was concerned - as Harry's _withchild_ progressed, more and more of his energy went into the bond with their children. It left him tired and cranky at the end of the day unless Ron could get him to sleep during the day.

"I want a cuddle, and we don't all fit on the couch now," Ron pouted shamelessly. He did want a cuddle in fact, because he knew that it would send Harry to sleep. Harry gave him a look that said very clearly that he wasn't fooled but followed Ron to the bed anyway, settling on his side and grunting when someone kicked him unexpectedly.

Ron spooned around his spouse, helping to support the Bump, adding a few pillows to make things as comfortable as possible. He sent his fingers to the small of Harry's back and rubbed soothingly, aware that his children were making Harry's back ache. Harry growled in surrender as his body relaxed, and Ron chuckled, moving to whisper in Harry's ear about museums and buildings and history - both Muggle and Wizard.

"Sneaky sod," Harry murmured and slid into sleep. Ron kissed the ear he'd been whispering in and snuggled into Harry's back, well pleased with the reception of his idea. They'd pack when they woke and be ready to go tomorrow after Ginny arrived. There was a safe Apparation point at the Muggle airport in London. This was going to be fun.

They'd spend some time in the sun, looking at new and interesting things and Harry would be able to show off the Muggle world to his partner. They'd even been booked into a Muggle hotel, a very fancy one according to the Witch who had helped him plan the whole thing out. The hotel would pamper them both a little, as he had chosen one of their more expensive packages at his assistant's suggestion. He trusted her with their comfort, safe in the knowledge that Hermione wouldn't steer him wrong. They'd be sure to bring back a few souvenirs and a present for her as well.

0oo0oo0

Harry closed the recipe book he'd bought in Rome with a sigh and rubbed his hand over the back of his neck. Thirty-five days may sound like a lot of time, but when dealing with babies, it was barely enough. The triplets were finally in a routine, though, and he thanked his lucky stars that Ron had been so patient with him. The birth had been a very powerful experience, and it had also frightened his lover to the point that Ron had abandoned their children to the care of his mother while he stayed at Harry's side. Harry had slept for a long time, woken completely refreshed and a little freaked that he couldn't feel the babies inside him any more.

They'd made their fair share of mistakes, all new parents did, and Harry was grateful beyond words that his mother-in-law was an understanding sort of woman. He couldn't have faced criticism of his early days as a father, which were mainly one long adrenalin fuelled panic. He and Ron had very little sleep and no time for each other at all while they tried to adjust to the presence of the babies and their nearly constant round of guests. Molly had finally put her foot down, kicked everyone out of the house, made sure her sons knew the basics and then left them to it as well.

They'd even brewed the Tears of the Phoenix in amongst all the chaos - it had actually been a very soothing activity as they were extremely familiar with the process and could handle all the ups and downs of the bond. The potion had gone off to the hospital and autumn had arrived at the Field, leading them out into the garden with the children while they harvested their fruit trees, prepared the garden for winter and worked in the conservatory on the days when it rained too hard to go out.

An owl from Professor Snape had interrupted that idyll. Their former teacher had another potion he wanted them to try and Ron had agreed to look the recipe over at the very least. One thing had led to another and Snape was arriving tonight with the ingredients and notes they would need. He'd be staying for a fortnight, and Ron was upstairs preparing a guest room for the man while Harry tried to decide what to prepare for dinner tonight.

"All done," Ron announced as he trotted down the stairs lightly. Harry nodded, pulled out another book and flipped through it desultorily. He shut it and tossed it back onto the shelf with a feeling close to desperation. Ron's arms snuck around his waist and Harry sighed, leaning back into the familiar body.

"Why am I panicking? It's not like I need to prove anything. This is Snape," Harry grumbled, and Ron kissed the back of his neck in a distracting fashion.

"That's why you're panicking," Ron murmured, "You spent the last seven years under his thumb, being called every name he could think of and accused of every crime he could create. Now he's the one looking for your approval and you want to prove that you're better than he was."

"That actually makes sense," Harry's voice was tinged with admiration and Ron snorted into his neck, making his skin tingle. It had been a long time since they'd been able to hold onto each other quietly. Cuddles usually had a baby involved somewhere as they dealt with colic and strange sleep patterns.

"Mmm, mum usually does," Ron agreed and Harry laughed, turning to return the cuddle, kissing Ron's warm lips gently. Five very nice minutes later Ron broke it off, drawing back reluctantly.

"Should I start peeling vegetables?" he asked and Harry smiled, kissing him once more before stepping back. There was a slight nip to the air outside, and he had just the recipe to counter it.

"I can manage," he replied, "You can set up the bottles. The Trio will be awake in another half hour, and Snape gets here in an hours time."

He turned and pulled the recipes from Rome out again, waving his wand at the cupboard to pull the ingredients he wanted from the shelves. Forty minutes later he was cradling Timothy and Edwina, while Ron fed Lawrence. There was a knock at the front door and Ron sighed, rolling his eyes.

"I'll bet that's Snape," he got up and headed up the stairs while Harry chuckled lightly, but activated their bond - just in case. He'd been a lot more cautious since Fudge had attacked them both, unwilling to risk their children's safety to a random caller. He felt Ron deactivate the bond once the front door was open and sighed. The next two weeks were going to be so much fun… not. He hoped that whatever had been going on with Snape in his last two years was over and done with now - the last things he need was Ron going off the deep end because his former Professor was 'looking at him funny'.

0oo0oo0

"Thank Merlin that's over," Harry shook his head, sending drops of water all over the place. Ron chuckled and reached for the shampoo, letting Harry check it before starting to wash his hair. Snape had left just an hour ago, headed for St Mungo's with the latest potion. This one had been a lot more difficult to master, as it required a greater draw on their bond. There were no mystical convergences or divine interventions to help brew this one, unlike Tears of the Phoenix, which used several natural wellsprings to ease the burden of brewing on the casters.

"We did it though," Ron grinned, "And the look on Snape's face was more than worth the stress."

"Mmmm," Harry didn't care about stress, not when he had Ron's fingers in his hair and warm water running down his body. Ron tugged on the strands his fingers were playing with and Harry opened an eye to glare at him lazily.

"Careful with that! I'm attached to it," he reminded his spouse. Ron grinned and went back to the massage. Harry was a slut for scalp massages, as his partner knew full well.

"We need to do something to thank Ginny and Hermy," Harry mumbled. His sister-in-law had come over to watch the babies after it became apparent that they would need to spend a full day brewing this concoction of Snape's. She had been full of pride and energy when she arrived, and had brought Hermione with her for company. Harry had welcomed them both after Mrs Weasley's imposed and rigorously enforced exile. Snape had been the politest he'd ever seen the man - probably because he wanted the partners mind on the potion they were brewing not their children.

"Medals might be nice," Ron recalled Harry to the shower and Harry ducked out from the wonderful hands of his partner, rinsing off quickly and pushing Ron under the water to return the favour. His internal clock was telling him that they would have to get out soon to feed the babies and settle them for the night.

"Nah," Harry chuckled, rubbing diligently, "I was thinking more along the lines of flowers, chocs, that sort of thing. If we start giving out medals to the babysitters we'll never get them to come back."

"True," Ron mumbled, "Besides, the Trio aren't that much of a handful once you're used to them."

Harry smiled and rinsed his partner off. It had seemed to take them a long time to get organised and into a routine. Mrs Weasley had dropped by once or twice though, and praised their methods. If the mother of seven could honestly say they were doing ok, and she wouldn't lie about something like that, Molly Weasley could be brutally honest when the occasion called for it, then Harry felt that he could relax a little.

He leaned in to give Ron a quick hug and felt a familiar length poke him in the thigh. Ron moaned and blushed, embarrassed by his response to the casual touch.

"I've almost forgotten what that was for," Ron told him and Harry grinned, sinking easily to his knees. They had time before the babies woke up if they were quick. He wrapped his hand around Ron's base and smiled up at his partner mischievously.

"How about a quick something to remember?"

0oo0oo0

Memory washed over him, as bright and sharp as the flames dancing in the hearth. Memories of holding Harry between his legs, back to chest, his partner crying out in pain, writhing with effort, the stench of strain and sweat and acrid agony stinging the air as the two women talked to them, and held Harry down on their marriage bed. Memories of other voices joining Harry's cries, of the surge of magic from his spouse as he protected the new voices and gasped for air.

A memory of holding tiny bodies in his arms, smelling powder and that indefinable something that said 'baby' to every species on the planet. Memories of his mother's tearstained face and Hermione's arms holding him close as she whispered in his ear, his father sitting with an arm around him, the twins tiptoeing around the Field on their best behaviour, Hagrid's late night arrival and wordless awe, Charlie walking in with the sun and the new light bringing so much clarity.

There was a pop in the fire, and Ron's eyes focussed long enough to be sure that stray sparks had been contained by the fire guard before he leaned his head on his hand, elbow resting on the dining table and the half full mug of tea as he let memory sweep him away once more. Memories swelled of struggling to change a nappy that smelt like a ten-day-old dead dragon while a small body wailed in front of him. Memories of being afraid to move, to even breathe while a fragile bundle nestled in his arms. The thankfully few moments of sheer unadulterated panic and mortification. Memories of sleepless nights and rare perfect moments of stillness and peace.

"You awake, dear?" Harry's voice sounded amused and Ron came back to the present as a warm weight settled on his thighs, and strong arms encircled his neck lightly. His partner's eyes were sparkling with humour and affection and a sexy hint of mischief. Ron tucked his thumbs in the back of Harry's waistband and smiled back rather fatuously. His spouse had obviously finished wrapping the Christmas presents he'd hidden from Ron, and come looking for his exiled partner.

"I am now," he promised, "Just remembering."

Harry bent his head and kissed him lightly, lingering to simply breathe Ron's breath, sharing warmth and peace with him. Ron hummed lightly in pleasure and leaned in to nuzzle the be-whiskered chin, dragging his lips lightly over the stubble there and welcoming Harry's body as it leaned into him even more.

"It's been a wild four months," Harry agreed when his lips were free again, "Remember the fight we had over decorating the nursery?"

Ron chuckled, the shouts still echoing in his ears. He'd wanted to use pink and blue and ruffles of lace in a very untypical fit of 'cute'. Harry had flatly refused, opting for sturdy, elegant furniture and plain walls. They'd ended up asking his parents opinion to break the stalemate, compromising in the end to keep the peace. When he'd finally come to his senses, Ron had been relieved that the frills and colour scheme hadn't made it past his spouse.

"Mmm, making up was fun though," Ron nipped Harry's neck lightly, "And for the record, you were right."

"I'm always right," Harry asserted complacently and Ron gripped the buttocks his hands were cupping as he snorted in unexpected laughter. Harry wriggled a little and kissed him ardently, diverting Ron from his planned retaliation.

"I remember the day after the birth, when the house was full of people," Ron offered when they'd come up for air, and Harry's face softened. Ron had been terrified by the pain and struggle Harry had gone through to bring their babies into the world safely, and had abandoned the children to his family in order to simply sit with his exhausted partner. When Harry finally woke he'd gotten up against Ron's wishes, had a quick shower and then walked down the stairs, seeking out their babies unerringly, holding each one in his arms in turn. Ron had pictures of it, the pure peace and radiant joy on Harry's face captured only palely by the camera, but preserved for all time in his heart. Ron had known at that moment that Harry would be a fantastic parent.

"The look on your face as you held your daughter," Harry kissed him again, "It was… indescribable."

"I was so scared I'd drop her. She was tiny," Ron confessed and Harry chuckled, stroking his fingers over the dark lock of hair at his partner's temple.

"Not any more - they're growing so fast," his best friend said lightly, "Three months old and already they're more of a handful than I can hold."

"You've got them in the palm of your hand," Ron retorted lightly, thinking how often it was that Harry was the only one that the babies would fall asleep for, a remnant of the bond he'd forged while bearing them. Ron didn't begrudge the tie Harry had to the children, he knew where he fit into Harry's life and was supremely content. Harry sighed and snuggled in, rocking his hips against Ron's groin lightly. Sex had taken a bit of a backseat to life lately, between the children and the potion brewing for St Mungo's.

Upon reflection, they were lucky that Snape had even waited until the children were a month old before arriving on their doorstep with a cauldron full of ingredients and another difficult potion to brew. They'd taken two weeks to prepare for the brewing, and a day to brew, with their former professor an unlikely, brooding guest the entire time. It had been a success, and St Mungo's had a new weapon in the war against disease. The partners had only increased their terms of contract with the hospital by a slim margin, aware that if they made the hospital pay too much they'd put the potion out of reach of the poorer members of their world.

"Speaking of holding things in the palm of the hand, are you going to do anything with what you've got there?" Harry recalled him from the rush of memory and Ron chuckled, pinching lightly, just to feel Harry jump and laugh in outrage. Their mouths met in a tousle of tongues and teeth that had Ron gasping to breathe at the end, and Harry wriggled about a bit, parting the dressing gown he wore and eeling athletically out of his pyjama bottoms. He was naked underneath.

Parts of Ron stood up in enthusiastic salute, and Harry chuckled, sending his strong hands to Ron's waistband and pushing at the striped flannel. Ron lifted his hips obligingly and murmured in appreciation as his briefs were pulled down too while Harry's mouth attached itself to an ear. The bond hummed for a bare second, and Ron found their jar placed in his hand.

Harry straddled him again and settled in to feast on his earlobe, driving Ron to pleasurable distraction while he attempted to slick his fingers and find the entrance to Harry's body. He encountered clinging heat and they moaned together, a slick pleasure sound that echoed the roiling sensations they were experiencing. Harry's fingers were commanding him to hurry, to just do him now, and Ron pulled free, slipping his hand to his own prick, slicking clumsily as Harry lifted himself up. Their connection was a taste of paradise and they moved languidly at first, then with slowly increasing urgency as their hands and mouth spoke words of love and praise.

0oo0oo0


	20. Epilogue B

Harry groaned and rolled smoothly out of bed and onto his feet. Going by rote more than anything else - he certainly wasn't awake and his well-loved and sated body was bitterly protesting any movement at all - he dragged on his glasses, slippers and a dressing gown, heading to the nursery to shush the crying baby.

Edwina sniffled at him and he slid his hands beneath her, lifting her to his shoulder and humming under his breath as one hand checked her nappy and the other held her securely to his chest. She was still dry and he rocked on the spot, squinting blearily at his sons, who were still asleep. His partner had dragged him up to bed last night - once they'd recovered from his little distraction on the dining room chair and they'd spent a long time on bed play, just touching and tasting to their hearts content. Fatherhood had cut their sex lives dramatically, and there were times Harry wished he could shag Ron stupid all weekend and not have to worry about any other responsibility.

Then one of his children would smile or coo at him and his heart would melt, berating him for his selfish wishes. Edwina's little hands were clutching his dressing gown and she calmed a little. Of the three, she seemed to want the most attention from her fathers. He just knew that she was responsible for the most of the kicking he'd experienced while carrying them, as her arms and legs wind milled quite wildly when she was first put down.

"Winnie?" Ron's sleep blurred voice sounded in the doorway and Harry grunted an affirmative. His partner came up behind him and slid his arms around his waist, rocking in time with them. The sun had only just come up, so it was about their usual waking time. Training would not begin with the Aurors until the children were six months old, and the Department of Accidental Magic Reversal was happy to call on them only in an emergency until the Auror training was done.

"You might want to start their morning bottles," Harry said reluctantly, enjoying the cuddle as much as his daughter was, "The boys will be awake soon."

Ron sighed but kissed his neck and let go obediently. He reached around and took Edwina from Harry's arms, settling her with the same practiced pat the green-eyed man had seen his mother-in-law use. It always brought a grin to Harry's face to see his spouse use the same gestures and routines that his mother had doubtless used on him.

"I'll take her down with me - why don't you use the time to clean up and dress. We can trade off on the feeding and be ready to go to Mum's for breakfast," Ron smiled and leaned in for a good-morning-lover kiss. They were accustomed to trading off on the chores so they could tend their needs as well as the children's, and Harry was glad that the friendship that they'd bargained over in school was standing them in good stead now.

Half an hour later Harry was shaved, washed and dressed and heading in to pick up Lawrence who had just announced his return from the land of nod. One nappy change later, Harry was walking quickly down the stairs to where Ron was singing to Edwina while he fed her the morning bottle.

"Do we need to send the Christmas presents on?" Ron stopped singing, holding up his free arm for his son. Harry deposited the baby and Summoned a bottle for his partner, smiling at the very domestic scene. The house wards announced that Timothy was also waking, and he was thankful their children had woken one at a time this morning. When all three woke at once, it tended to be a bit of a scramble.

"I did that last night, before we shagged each other stupid," Harry grinned and leaned over for a quick peck on the lips, "Merry Christmas, Ron."

"Merry Christmas, Harry," Ron smiled, "Now get back upstairs - our son is waiting."

Harry chuckled and jogged lightly up the stairs again. If anyone had said to him that this would be his life - bickering with a spouse over children and household at the age of eighteen - he'd have sent them to the secure ward of St Mungo's for prolonged rest and observation. Now, he wouldn't swap it for all the gold in the world.

An hour later Ron and the babies were washed and dressed, ready to travel to the Burrow for the traditional Christmas breakfast. Harry had offered to have the whole family at the Field for Christmas, thinking that the babies would be less bother to his in-laws with the Nursery on hand. Molly had been horrified at the idea that he would have to cater for her 'great galumphing horde' as well as cater for Christmas day, and had insisted that they come home. Harry had agreed on the condition that he be allowed to send on some puddings, jars of their own preserved fruit and some of his weekly baking to ease her burden, knowing full well that she would want to spend as much time with her grandchildren as possible.

He made sure the babies were warm and snug in the basket they used whenever they were Apparating with them and picked up several of the bags that always travelled with them. Nappies and bottles and toys and changes of clothes and favourite blankets… Harry shook his head, remembering the time when he and Ron travelled with only the contents of their pockets.

Ron smiled down at his children, so proud and happy that Harry had to blink to clear his vision. His partner took the other bags and put his hands on the handle, overlapping their fingers. They had learned to Apparate the children together, using the bond to ensure the five of them got where they were going safely.

"Ready?" Harry grinned, and Ron nodded, leaning in for a quick kiss. The bond hummed and they were gone.

0oo0oo0

Ron reached over and opened the kitchen door, ushering his spouse and children in quickly. The crisp air in the Burrow's yard was refreshing, but he didn't want to deal with three colds because he'd tarried outside. He heard his mother welcome them and stepped into the warmth, shutting the door and gladly dropping his selection of bags by the nearest cupboard, waiting until the basket Harry carried was empty before relieving the green eyed man of his burdens as well. The twins each had a nephew, and Ginny had her niece, leaving his parents and older brothers free to welcome him and Harry.

Percy introduced his girlfriend rather stiffly to them both, even though they both remembered the former Ravenclaw Prefect, Penelope Clearwater. Ron was impressed that she'd put up with his stuffy older brother for so long, and caught a similar look on Harry's face. Charlie and Bill thumped them both soundly on the back and put in their bids for equal time with the babies, finally vowing to have their 'turn' after breakfast.

"You two must be starving, sit down!" his mother shooed them towards the table and Ron settled beside George, with Harry next to Ginny. They'd split up in order to be near their children - just in case - and he caught his father's approving smile. Ron had worried that he'd drive Harry nuts with his protective urges, but had soon discovered that Harry was also a bit overprotective. His spouse had joked that by their fifth or sixth child they'd probably have calmed down a little.

"Now, they're not your babies at all today," Molly settled beside her husband, "We all agreed last night that you two would have a bit of a rest today and we'd take care of your children."

"Only on the condition that you let me help you cook," Harry said immediately and Ron smothered a grin. His Harry was a devious sod, he'd give him that. Molly looked like she was going to protest, but Arthur gave her a swift look and she gave in reluctantly.

"Can you cook, Harry?" Fred asked lightly, and Harry beamed at him in a fashion that had Ron cringing a little in reaction. That was a very naughty look.

"You'll see," he promised in a sinister voice that had the table laughing in seconds. In fact, Harry was an excellent cook, and Ron had learned to stay out of his kitchen. Breakfast was a lively affair, though the twins and Ginny had a hard time eating with only one hand. The triplets were very energetic this morning, probably in response to the atmosphere around them.

Once the meal was finished the twins and Ginny were sent off to do the washing up, and Bill and Charlie had their 'turn' with Edwina and Lawrence, while Penelope played with Timothy. Percy had yet to pick up any of his nephews or niece, and hadn't even come to visit when they were born. Arthur had said to Ron privately that his brother was still upset over the whole thing with Fudge, and rather embarrassed as well. His older brother had sent a very nice set of storybooks three days after the birth, but had begged off the formal introduction of the triplets to the Weasley clan. Ron could see that Harry was still a little upset over all this, and made a mental note to reassure his partner that the rejection was not caused by anything Harry had done.

Edwina had begun to fuss by the time the family moved to the front room and Harry curled up in what Ron was rapidly coming to view as their 'spot' on the floor with her in his lap. They made such a beautiful sight that Ron felt his face break into yet another sappy grin before he settled beside his spouse and first-born child. He snaked an arm around a supple waist and added his voice to Harry's humming the lullaby - a Muggle song in point of fact - that soothed her the best.

There was a flash and Ron blinked to clear away the after images. His father simply grinned and Harry chuckled a little under his breath. The camera had been in evidence a lot more at family gatherings as Molly and Arthur started on their collection of grandchildren pictures. The family book that Harry had given Ron for Valentines day had also been added to - the first pictures of the children being held by each father in there, and three new albums started to keep a record of the Trio as they grew. Molly sat on the couch and Arthur joined her with the family tin. He shook it and she stuck her hand in as they did every year for as long as Ron could remember, pulling out a card decorated with brooms and snitches.

"Harry, dear, you're Santa," Molly smiled and Harry kissed his daughter on the forehead before passing her over to her grandmother. Ron hitched his knees up and grinned as the twins made Harry put on one of their trick hats from the store, one that flashed and sang 'Jingle Bells' in a high pitched and annoying voice. Harry's patience had been tried and tested by the twins from the moment they'd met him, and Ron hoped that the practice both partners had with Fred and George would last when faced with the Trio's pranks and japes.

0oo0oo0

"Did you see Shacklebolt's face?" Ron crowed as Harry Disapparated beside him, "I thought he was going to wet himself!"

"Well, he did think that he had you in a dead lock there, what with me being busy on the other side of the room with those four friends of his," Harry chuckled and leaned in to peck his proud man on the lips. Ron was finding the Auror training highly stimulating. The Aurors had a hard time understanding that just because one of them was terribly busy with something else didn't mean the bond wasn't there to support the other. Harry had been working on the protegah charm with four of the Aurors assigned to their task force, and Shacklebolt had been duelling with Ron. Harry had been repelling hexes to demonstrate the shield while Tonks cast for him, and talking the other two through the use of the spell, as Ron had lost his wand to the expelliarmus charm. The bond had snapped to life and Ron had recovered his wand, taken Shacklebolt's and warded off several quick hexes in the space of seconds. Harry hadn't even faltered in his instructions.

"That ought to show him," Ron leaned in for a deeper kiss, and his eyes promised Harry a lot more once they'd recovered the children from their grandmother and gone home. Harry chuckled again and reached out, knocking lightly on the door - a habit he had yet to break - before opening it and stepping inside.

"We're in the front room Harry dear!" Molly called, and he heard Ron snort in amusement. None of her other children - even the ones who had left home - bothered to knock when they came home. Harry moved quickly through the kitchen and around the huge hearth, smiling when Edwina greeted him with a squeal. At five months, the Trio were crawling already, and had a habit of pouncing on their father's feet the moment they spotted them after a day apart.

"Hello Winnie," Harry scooped her up and kissed her on the cheek, handing her to Ron and turning to smile at Molly, "Did you have a good day, mum?"

"I did, they were as wonderful as always," Molly beamed and Harry grinned, bending to scoop Lawrence up for a quick hello kiss. Edwina was on the floor again already, crawling back towards the ball she'd been chasing when they'd arrived. Timothy was their slowest mover, which meant that he'd be the biggest troublemaker according to Fred. Harry had asked if he was speaking from personal experience and left the twin laughing.

"We really appreciate this you know," Harry went to kiss her hello as well, and she smiled at him fondly, "We're lucky to have you."

"I'm lucky that you're happy to let me take them for you instead of hiring a nanny or something," she replied, "I'm well aware that you could afford to."

"My children will be raised by family, not strangers," Harry said firmly, and Ron added his support to that sentiment, watching their Trio dispute ownership of the soft felt ball that Edwina had now retrieved. They had made firm plans for the babies should anything happen to destroy the partners. The Trio would not go to Muggles to be raised, no matter what happened.

"Harry," Molly pulled an envelope out of her apron and tapped it nervously on her fingers, "Professor McGonagal sent this on from Hogwarts for you this morning. I think it's from your cousin, the Muggle."

"Oh?" Ron walked over to retrieve the letter, opening it and pulling the paper inside out, moving with the assured knowledge that what he was doing had Harry's blessing. Harry didn't have any secrets from Ron - not when it came to the everyday things. He could still manage to surprise his spouse when he wanted to.

"She sent it here so that…" Molly trailed off and Harry smiled. Minerva McGonagal had been a strictly fair teacher, one that he would respect and admire for the rest of his life, but under the strict exterior was a very warm and caring woman, one who watched over the welfare of her students with a very intelligent eye. He knew that she had sent the letter here so that Harry had family with him while he opened it.

"It's ok, mum," Harry reassured her, "So I guess Dudley sent the letter care of the school through Muggle post?"

"That's right, dear. The owl post has an arrangement with the Muggle post for the Muggle borns and the businesses that work in both worlds," Molly confirmed and Ron shook his head, handing the letter over to Harry and plopping himself on the floor to play with his children. Harry came to sit next to his mother-in-law, tilting the letter so that she could read it too. When he was done he folded the letter away and smiled at Ron. The redhead was on his back with the babies climbing unsteadily all over him, jabbering away in their own version of speech. He and Ron understood them perfectly, though the rest of the family were often stumped.

"This is going to be interesting. They don't even know I'm gay, let alone married with children," Harry told him, "I really don't see the five of us popping in to visit them as Dudley suggests."

"So write him a letter," Ron fished Lawrence's hand out of his mouth, kissed it and caught Timothy as the baby slid off his shoulder. Edwina was trying to climb up on his leg, pushing herself so she was almost standing. The protective robes that they wore when training with the Aurors were similar in style to their Quidditch uniforms and just as brightly coloured, hence the children's fascinated grip on him. The uniform had the added bonus of protecting the wearer with several cushioning spells, so Timothy's unfortunate slip on Ron's stomach didn't do more than make him grin.

"The thing is, if Aunt Petunia honestly wants to see me…" Harry sighed, "I know they won't approve, and I know they won't understand, but I at least owe them the courtesy of listening to whatever they have to say."

"Ok," Ron heaved a sigh, which delighted Lawrence, who stuck his hand back in his father's mouth. Ron choked, fished it out and Harry bent down to take his son away, pulling him into his lap and jiggling a knee gently. The baby laughed and clapped his hands, earning the smiles of the adults around him in response.

"But I'm coming with you, and no arguments," Ron's tone was no nonsense and Harry nodded, bending to tickle Lawrence lightly, hiding his trepidation from his spouse.

0oo0oo0

In the end, Harry had walked to a Muggle phone box - Dudley had sent their number in the letter - and called his cousin, making arrangements to see them in London. Ron had argued that the babies should stay at the Burrow, Harry had argued that he wasn't ashamed of his children and they should see the only members of his family at least once in their lives; preferably now when they'd be unlikely to remember any unpleasantness. Ron's mother had backed Harry up and Ron had given in reluctantly.

Directions had been given to the Muggle Street that housed the Leaky Cauldron, and Harry had appointed a Muggle café as their meeting place. Ron had let his partner kiss the temper off his face before they left and had made a personal vow to be nothing but supportive and quiet during this meeting.

Petunia Dursley had gained some needed weight in the Muggle hospice, and Dudley had lost some as well. Their babies were too big to be carried in a basket now, and Ron had Lawrence and Edwina in the twins' old double pram, while Harry carried Timothy on his hip. Timothy did not ride well in prams - he had a tendency to fuss and cry constantly, which meant that one of his fathers carried him in turn about. Edwina and Lawrence loved riding, and the motion often sent them to sleep.

"Harry!" Dudley smiled, waved them over to the table, his eyes widening as he caught sight of the babies and Ron. Ron had argued that if Harry was going to tell the Muggles everything then they might as well see the children up front, and if things were looking skanky then Ron could take their children away. Harry had agreed, and Ron was relieved, as he watched the Muggle woman that had raised Harry take in the children and realise right away what was going on. The expression on her face was not particularly welcoming.

"Who's this?" Dudley asked, reaching out a hand to Timothy. Ron bristled and Harry put his hand protectively over Timothy's back to prevent the touch. Dudley's hand dropped, sadness washing over his face. His mother tugged him to sit down again at the table, and Ron and Harry took a moment to get the pram situated safely before sitting down as well. Timothy was clutching Harry's leather jacket with one hand, looking over at the strangers with big eyes.

"My son, Timothy Potter," Harry answered the question steadily, "His brother Lawrence and his sister Edwina."

"You got married?" Dudley asked innocently and Ron leaned over to take Harry's hand, making sure that the rings caught the other mans eye.

"We did," Ron confirmed, "And the children are ours, naturally."

Petunia Dursley looked as if someone had just dumped a load of rancid dragon dung in her lap, and Ron was proud to watch Harry meet her eyes with pride and a little defiance. Dudley gaped, picking up the meaning of the world 'naturally' straight away. His term at Hogwarts had taught him a little more about the world that Harry lived in and the power behind it. That experience might actually make things easier for Harry now, or so Ron was hoping.

"I… didn't know that was possible," was the neutral comment, and Ron nodded. Timothy crowed and waved a hand for attention, sensing that his father was upset. Harry glanced at his watch and reached for the bag with the bottles on the back.

"Uh… may I help you?" Dudley's offer was surprising, and Ron left the decision to his spouse. If he felt that Dudley could be trusted with one of their children then Ron would allow it, though the bond would be on standby from the first moment he touched their child.

"That's ok, they're a little fussy around strangers," Harry smiled easily, and they were interrupted by the waiter. A quick glance around, and Ron ordered tea and sandwiches for the two of them, waited while Petunia and Dursley placed their order and then fished Edwina out of the pram for her bottle. Lawrence was still asleep, and that gave them a little breathing room when it came to feeding the Trio.

"Well," Petunia's tone was waspish to say the least, and Harry tensed. Ron hit the woman with a glare of his own and watched it bounce right off her, like a spell off their shield, "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that you turned out as unnatural as your mother."

Ron felt his gut clench in dread and opened his mouth to shoot her down, hesitating and glancing down at his daughter. That moment of hesitation allowed Harry to speak instead, his voice low and calm, pleasant to listen to though the words were not.

"I finally figured you out, Aunt. Your sister and you must have competed pretty fiercely when you were children - the little that I've been able to learn about my mother tells me that she was a competitive person. And when she got her letter to go to school she had finally managed to out compete you in an area that you would never be able to catch up. I don't know why it is that grandmother and grandfather allowed this to continue, but… never mind," Harry shook his head and smiled at the woman sitting opposite while Ron smiled at him in pride. His Harry was finally taking a stand, something that would have been impossible two years ago.

"Then I was delivered to your front door step, and you not only learn that your sister has been killed, but that you are expected to raise her son. I can only imagine your triumph. You finally had the perfect means to get your revenge by making sure that I had no way to compete with your own son - until of course, you realised that one day, I too would go to a school that would teach me to do things that Dudley would never be able to manage. Hence the hate that you poured all over me that last summer we spent together. The irony of it is, that if I had been treated well, and accustomed to spending the holidays at home with you there may have been something I could do for you when you were attacked."

Petunia went a nasty shade of white and Dudley bit his lip. Ron could see that the Muggle teen clearly regretted his own part in Harry's mistreatment, though that regret would never begin to satisfy Ron. His partner had endured abuse at the hands of those that should have treated him fairly at the very least.

"Now, I don't want to hear whatever hateful things you have to say about me and mine," Harry said softly, persuasively, "I came to see you because you requested it. But if you think that I am for one moment interested in listening to another outburst of your prejudice and lies then you may as well leave now."

"I suppose you think I should apologise," Petunia snarled through stiff lips and Harry smiled, shaking his head as he burped Timothy. Ron put Edwina in the pram and took Timothy from his spouse as Lawrence woke and cooed for attention. Harry picked the boy up and fished out another bottle, warming it with a quick charm muttered under his breath.

"I do," Ron confirmed, startling the Muggles, who blinked at him as if he had just appeared out of thin air, "But I know that's too much to hope for. You won't apologise because you don't think you did anything wrong. He doesn't want an apology, though, because he's soft in the head."

"Thanks, pet," green eyes crackled at him across the head of their child, and Ron shrugged. Harry sighed, but before he could speak again, Dudley spoke up.

"I'm sorry," his voice was soft, but clear, "I'm sorry that I treated you the way I did. I should have treated you better, no matter what mum and dad thought of you."

Ron smiled, pleased that at least one of them was willing to own up to their mistakes. The waiter arrived with their food and Petunia stood up, glowering at her son and stalking out of the café wordlessly. Dudley sighed and got up too. The waiter watched with fascinated eyes until Ron cleared his throat, recalling the man to his task of placing the food on the table.

"I'd better get after her," he hesitated, "Will you… I'd like to stay in touch… maybe we could write each other?"

"Sure," Harry nodded, looking a bit weary; "I'll send Hedwig to your address in a few weeks. She'll wait for your reply."

"Ok," Dudley nodded, put a few notes of Muggle money on the table and hurried after his mother. Ron reached over and caressed Harry's fingers.

/are you ok//

/I am/ Harry's smile confirmed that sentiment /it needed to be said, Ron, and I'm glad I did. If all that comes out of this is that Dudley and I get to know each other as people instead of enemies then I'm more than happy/

Ron nodded and looked at the people around them surreptitiously. There were one or two people looking at their joined hands curiously, but on the whole there was no real censure for their touch. He smiled and looked back at Harry.

/so here's the plan/ he told his partner with a smile /we finish our sandwiches, drop the Trio off at Mums for the afternoon and go home to release some… tension/

Harry's smouldering look more than indicated his approval of that idea.

0oo0oo0

The tingle of the house wards across his skin woke Harry and he lifted his head from his pillow cautiously. There was someone in the kitchen, though the house recognised that they had authority to be there. Ron was dead to the world and snoring happily in Harry's ear and his fingers caressed his partners to get him to let go. Harry put on his glasses, collected his wand and shoved his feet into slippers, padding quietly out to the top of the stairs. He sealed the hallway behind him, drawing a wall across the top of the stairs and protecting his family. Mad Eye Moody's refrain of 'constant vigilance' had never let him down yet - it was better to be safe than sorry.

Wand at the ready he moved silently down to the first floor and then sealed that behind him as well as he ghosted down the kitchen stairs. George sat slumped in the armchair they'd placed in the kitchen. Ron liked to read there while Harry cooked, and later it had become very useful to sit in whilst feeding a baby. Harry lit the candles in the kitchen with a wave of his wand and George jumped in surprise.

"Hello George," Harry said quietly. Satisfied that it was his brother-in-law and that there was no malevolent influence at work, Harry put the kettle on for tea and went to lean on the counter nearest his friend.

"Hullo Harry," George said dully. From the smell he'd been drinking heavily, and his hands were shaking badly as well, "Wassup? Can't sleep?"

"No," Harry shook his head, disguising his amusement easily, "I thought I'd have some tea. Would you like a cup?"

"Ssssure," George nodded. Harry got out the mugs and teapot, glancing back at the redhead. He was still nodding, his eyes staring vacantly ahead. Whatever had happened to him tonight had shaken him up a great deal. There was no blood, and none of the jangle that Harry had come to associate with the shield spells. He reached out with the bond lightly to touch the amulet at George's neck and felt no sense of past peril or pain. Harry brewed the tea, made sure that George's cup had an anti-spill spell on it - one that they'd learned to use for the Trio and their first attempts at feeding themselves - and handed George's over.

"So, what have you been up to lately?" Harry prodded gently, sitting on the kitchen floor and sipping his tea. George stopped nodding and tracked his eyes blearily to Harry's face.

"The shop is doing really well, Harry, really it is," George mumbled, "Did we ever thank you for the starter money? We could probably pay you back by now, it's doing that well, really."

"I don't want to be paid back," Harry reminded him. As far as he was concerned that was blood money, tainted by Cedric's death. He'd always thought that Cedric would approve of the use the prize money had been put to; the Hufflepuff Quidditch player had enjoyed Fred and George's pranks and larks.

"Are you sssure?" George squinted at him, "It would be no trouble www-what so ever…"

"I'm sure," Harry promised, "How's Fred?"

He'd decided to prod things along a little. It was very rare to see one twin without the other somewhere nearby, and if they'd had some kind of falling out, then it was always possible that George had decided to get out of the flat they shared for a while rather than continue the row. Fred was the feisty one, George had the cunning. Between them they made a remarkable pair, certainly not a team to go against, as Professor Umbridge discovered.

"He's getting married," George gulped at the lukewarm tea in his mug and gagged a little on it. Harry got up and patted him on the back, taking the tea away and sitting on the arm of the chair. The house wards tingled again and he looked up in time to see Ron remove the barrier at the top of the stairs, squinting down them suspiciously. He frowned and then retreated into the shadows at Harry's gesture, giving his partner tacit permission to deal with this for now.

"Who's he marrying?" Harry asked, putting a hand on George's shoulder. The shoulder shrugged miserably, and its owner blew out a miserable sigh. There was a shift in the shadows as Ron jumped in surprise at their words.

"We've been d-dating this girl the last year or so - never introduced her to mum or dad. I thought that they w-w-w-were just friends - the three of us went out a lot," George swallowed a sob and bunched his fists in his lap, "Me and Fred, we've been t-t-together all our lives, and now he's dumping me for this g-g-girl."

"Oh George," Harry rubbed the bony shoulder his hand was resting on and wondered how to deal with this. Fred had obviously made his announcement and George had headed for the nearest pub. Someone Apparated upstairs and Harry saw Ron whisk away to find out who it was. George was sniffling a little and Harry looked to see if he could spot a hanky anywhere - they'd been doing the laundry this morning.

"George!" Fred's voice was unmistakable, and unfortunately too loud. The nursery wards announced that Edwina and Timothy had woken. Fred came roaring down the stairs and Harry got up, heading for the nursery, Ron a few steps ahead of him. There were a few shouts below, but Ron sealed the door with a silence spell and Harry picked up his daughter.

"Bloody hell," Ron muttered, and Harry nodded in agreement. He turned his attention to soothing the baby in his arms. They'd ensure the silence spell stayed on the door until they knew for a fact that the twins had finished their row.

0oo0oo0

There was no sign of damage to the kitchen Ron was relieved to see. The twins' rows were rare, but often spectacular. Harry would have been well miffed if the twins had left his kitchen a mess. Ron started preparing breakfast for the Trio and his partner while Harry got the triplets dressed and refilled the bags that would go to the Burrow.

There was a whoosh from the fireplace, and Ron turned, smiling at his mother when she stepped out of the hearth, brushing soot from her robes.

"Good morning, Mum," Ron went to kiss her cheek and she hugged him back enthusiastically, "What brings you here so early?"

"I want to talk to you and Harry," Molly informed him and Ron glanced up to the top of the stairs. Harry had the boys in his arms, smiling at the Witch in their kitchen in surprise.

"Good morning, Mum," Harry kissed her cheek to and handed over his burdens, "I'll just pop up and get Edwina."

"I'm staying for breakfast, dear," Molly assured him and Ron's partner smiled happily. There was nothing that Harry loved more than to have family drop in unannounced and let him feed them. Ron smothered a yawn and jiggled Timothy on his hip a little, waving his wand to direct the operations in the kitchen. Lawrence was snuggling into his grandmother's shoulder, and Edwina squealed happily when she saw their visitor.

"That's just like Ginny," Ron winced, "Of all the family traits you had to pick from couldn't you have chosen something quieter, Winnie?"

His daughter dimpled at him charmingly and blew kisses. Harry laughed and added his magic to Ron's, getting breakfast for all six of them on the table quickly. With a baby each, things were rather lively for a while, and Ron was glad that he'd learned the re-heat charm for his own breakfast.

"So, I guess you found out the twins had a row last night," Ron said to his mother when they were finished with the food, and lingering over the morning cup of tea. She nodded, patting Lawrence on the back gently while he played with the fringe of her shawl.

"I did," she confirmed, "George and Fred came to see us at dawn and arrange a time to introduce their fiancé."

"_Their_ fiancé?" Harry frowned at his spouse, "I thought that George said it was Fred who was getting married."

"Well, I don't know what he said, of course," Molly beamed, "But the boys told me that Fred decided that he and George should marry this girl… who we haven't met at all yet… and George got the wrong end of the stick. George came here to see you, Fred followed him and you two let them sort it out."

"They woke the babies," Ron confirmed, "It took Harry an hour to get Winnie back to sleep."

He was rather miffed about this, as Harry still needed his sleep. Ron would fuss over his spouse until the day they died, and probably find a way to do it in the afterlife too.

"Well, after they sorted it out they went and proposed to her and she said yes, so of course, tonight we're having a celebration. You will be there, boys?" she asked. Unlike the Aurors, who were highly organised and efficient, the training schedule for the Department of Accidental Magic Reversal was a little haphazard and depended on accidents happening to allow it's members to practice.

"We'll try," Ron promised, "That's the best we can do. You know how it is, Mum. If we can't make it we'll let you know and the Trio will just have to fill in for us."

He could see that his mother was less than impressed with this answer, but it was the best they could do. He kissed her on the cheek as he ran upstairs to get ready, while Harry cleaned up the breakfast things and Summoned the Trio's bags down the stairs.

0oo0oo0

"Who do you think it is?" Harry asked Ron as they changed after work. Things had gone well today - they'd been able to get some work done for both Departments they worked for and Ron had been called to the Minister's office for a briefing. The new Minister for Magic was much more reasonable than Fudge, and insisted that the partners brief him once a month about their workload. Ron had taken that duty over, to give Harry a break from the stares that still followed him about whenever he went to the Minister's office.

"I don't know, but if they haven't had her in to meet the family before now…" Ron shrugged and Harry detected a note of trepidation in his voice. He moved to take his partner in his arms, rubbing his hip gently.

"Don't worry," Harry soothed, "It will be alright."

He was rewarded when Ron relaxed into his embrace and smiled in the red hair that his face was pressed to. Even after all this time, Ron still reacted well to hugs and cuddles. Harry felt that this little intimacy was as important as more explicit touching - it had been the first touch that he had instigated with his partner.

"We'd better get going," Ron sighed, "Come on."

Harry let go reluctantly and kissed Ron's nose on the way past. They Apparated to the Burrow, choosing to appear at the foot of the tree where they had consummated their wedding vows. Harry ignored the leer that Ron was giving him - they'd use a fertility spell next time, that way there would only be one baby to carry instead of the three or four that would likely result from copulating on a ley line - and headed for the house.

The Trio were in the pen that Arthur had made for them. Molly needed a break now and then to be able to prepare meals, or beds or any other chore that required two free hands and a bit of concentration. Harry went to his children straight away, bending to kiss them and say hello. They were almost nine months old now, and able to stand up. They had grown so independent of him now they were no longer inside his body, and he was proud of them all. Despite that he missed them terribly during the day.

Molly smiled at him in approval, so Harry knew there was at least one Weasley who didn't mind that he checked his children over first. He was determined not to smother them or deny them the chance to take the usual childhood risks, and he knew that he would be depending on Molly for advise and comfort as they got older.

"The twins will be here any minute," she kissed him hello, "You're right on time, dear."

"Have I told you how grateful I am that the Trio can come to you during the day?" Harry murmured and her smile got even wider. Arthur chuckled from behind Harry and he turned to look at his father-in-law.

"I'm pretty sure you said it this morning," Arthur told him easily and Harry grinned. He wasn't in the habit of taking people for granted. There had been so few people he could absolutely rely on as he grew up and it meant that he was wary of abusing another person's good will now.

"Ginny is going to be mad that she missed this," Ron remarked as he sat in a dining room chair, Edwina in his lap, "Pity that school is still on."

"She'll graduate this year," Harry realised and Molly chuckled. The fire in the hearth flared green and Fred stepped out, followed by a girl, followed by George. The girl looked familiar and Harry glanced over at Ron, who was staring at her with a gleam of recognition in his eyes.

"Angelina!" Ron exclaimed and the face fell into place for Harry. She'd changed her hair radically and gained about a stone of weight, altering her face and figure subtly, but his former Quidditch Captain was easily recognisable.

Harry grinned and settled back in his chair. Trust the twins to find the one person in the world that wouldn't mind dating them both at the same time. Life was about to get very interesting.

0oo0oo0

The End! (Yes, I'm serious!)


End file.
